Wicked Smart
by Lady MSM
Summary: One of Tolkien's most intelligent female characters tells her story. The rise and fall of Gondolin from Idril's POV. COMPLETE! Oh yeah.
1. A Short Prologue

**Wicked Smart**

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Middle-Earth or anyone in it.**_

_**Seeing as Idril was probably the most intelligent female character Tolkien ever invented, I figured that she needed to be able to tell her version of things. Please note that this story is based solely on what I've read in The Silmarillion, Unfinished Tales, and The Book of Lost Tales, so some of it is bound to be a bit inaccurate. **_

_**Also note that all the dialogue in this story is quite modern-sounding and not at all Tolkienesque, and I'm sorry if that offends you.**_

**Chapter 1: A Short Prologue**

"**I am me"**

**-Ashlee Simpson**

I hate, hate, _hate_all the stories I read in the history books about Gondolin and everything that happened with it. Why? Because they never get it right. No one seems to have the faintest idea about what really happened or who anyone who was involved was really like.

Well, okay, you're thinking. So what makes you different from anyone else, sister? What makes you such an expert on the hidden city of Gondolin all of a sudden?

Easy: Because my father was the king of said hidden city of Gondolin. So yeah, I'm going to be kind of an expert, since I was directly involved in the whole thing. My name is Idril (DON'T call me Celebrindal. I hate that name and I always will), and according to the legends, I am beautiful, psychic, and possibly crazy.

Why anyone would say I'm crazy is a mystery to me, seeing as I'm one of the sanest people I know, so I won't even discuss that. Psychic? Probably not. I'm just more perceptive than most people (too bad _no one ever listens to me_). As for being beautiful, I guess I kind of am. My hair is a nice color— this really bright gold that I inherited from my mother's side of the family—and I have dark brown eyes that I inherited from my dad. I have nice feet, a good figure, and good teeth, and no real visible flaws, so if that's beautiful, I suppose I'm beautiful. Believe me, there are times when I wish I wasn't. Normal-looking girls seem to cause a lot less trouble.

Back when I was a teenager, I wasn't pretty at all (and I mean at _all_) and as a result, Dad didn't like me and most people ignored me. After all, I _was_ a disappointment. Only children are supposed to be boys, since only boys can inherit titles. Noldorin princesses are supposed to be perfect, which I was anything but. I loved books and playing ball with the boys my age, making me _not _Dad's ideal daughter. Therefore, I was neglected.

Lucky for me, I had Aunt Aredhel, Dad's sister. She made sure that I had some sort of parental affection, and was a better mother to me than my own mother had been (actually, I don't know how good my real mother was to me. She died when I was six). Thanks to Aunt Aredhel, my love of knowledge, and my friends, I ended up being a lot tougher and more intelligent than girls are supposed to be.

Dad blamed this on my lack of a female role model, since Mom died when I was little. Aunt Aredhel said that I had _her_ as a female role model and what was wrong with a girl being strong and smart anyway. I said that I'd do what I wanted, and that Dad was just an old coot. Everyone else said that I was gorgeous, and said that I was turning out to be just like my mother.

My early life was crappy, in short.

This is the story of the rest of it.

**_Oh, and one more note: The quote-at-the-beginning-of-each-chapter-thing is an idea I got from the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series. _**


	2. The Move

**Chapter 2: The Move**

"**Crazy is what crazy do"**

**-The Black Eyed Peas**

The rest of my life began a month before my one hundred and fortieth birthday, when Dad told me that we were moving. I was quite surprised, of course. Not to mention annoyed. Dad never told me _anything_ until it was too late for me to do anything about it.

"Where are we going?" I asked. "Why are we going? How will we get there? How will we avoid being noticed?"

Dad laughed. "Good heavens, all these questions! We're going to a new city I've just completed. We're going because I think it'd be good for us. We'll get there by riding, I suppose. As for how we'll avoid being noticed, well, we'll just be careful. I'm sure we'll be fine. Is that everything?"

I looked at him and frowned. "You're not at all sure about that."

"Never you mind," replied Dad, looking a bit embarrassed that, once again, I had managed to guess exactly what he was thinking. "Go up and tell Meleth, and then start packing. We leave in two days."

"TWO DAYS? Isn't that a bit soon?"

"Stop asking me all these questions and get to it, Idril."

I ran upstairs, slightly ticked off. Dad never listened to me. I think this may be because I'm a girl. See, according to the customs of our people, girls are unfit to rule, and Dad thought this meant that girls are idiots. Which of course is not true.

"Meleth!" I called, entering my room. "Dad says we're moving!"

"Good heavens!" said Meleth, looking up from her embroidery. "Why on earth are we doing that?"

Meleth was officially my maid, though I never thought of her as a servant. She was pretty much my best friend. Dad had hired her when I was a teenager and, since Eru knows I had absolutely no use for a servant at the time, we'd ignored the fact that we were from different social classes and acted like crazy undignified tomboys together. Now that we were sophisticated young ladies, we were still inseparable.

"Search me," I said. "He says it'll be good for us. What that means, I have no idea."

"Hmm," said Meleth, and sighed. "I suppose we'd best get packing, then. When are we leaving?"

"Two days." I unearthed my trunk from my closet. "He won't even tell me where we're going. Normally Dad's not this secretive."

Meleth started helping me pack my clothes into the trunk. "I suppose the best thing to do is to not worry about it. Your father's smart, even if he's a bit stubborn." She was right. Dad was brilliant in his way. He was also an idiot, but that's not really important at the moment.

Late that evening, I ran into my Aunt Aredhel's room without knocking. She and I never knocked when we went into each other's rooms. Aunt Aredhel always said that we're both girls, so privacy isn't' really a concern. I _loved_ Aunt Aredhel. She'd been practically my mother since Mom drowned, but she still remembered what it's like to be young, so she wasn't always telling me what to do (That was more Dad's job anyway).

"Oh, hello, Idril," said Aunt Aredhel when I entered. She was brushing her hair in front of the mirror and didn't bother to look at me. "What's up?"

"Did Dad tell you we're moving?" I asked, sitting down on her bed. "Are you worried about it?"

Aunt Aredhel looked a bit surprised. "Why, of course, honey. He wouldn't forget to tell me something important like that. And no, I'm not much worried."

"Did he tell you where we were going? He didn't tell me. Why is he being so secretive?"

"I wonder if it's possible for you to just ask one question at a time?" said Aunt Aredhel, turning to me and smiling. "All he told me was that we were going to a city up North. And I think he's being secretive because…well, he told me that he didn't want to tell anyone the exact location of the city, because he's afraid that Morgoth's forces will discover it."

"Well, that seems sensible," I said. "But why couldn't he tell me?"

"Because your father is very overprotective of you and he doesn't want you to worry. It's silly, I know, and you ARE smart enough to handle stress, but to Turgon you're still something of a little girl and he wants to watch out for you. Also, he _is_ a bit prejudiced towards women." She grimaced. "Don't tell him I said that."

I sighed. "Aunt Aredhel, do you think I'm crazy?"

"Good heavens, my girl, whatever makes you ask that?"

"Dad thinks I am, just because sometimes…I can sometimes tell what people are thinking. He's never said so, but I know he thinks there's something wrong with me. Do you agree with him?"

"Idril." Aunt Aredhel looked me straight in the eyes, her tone serious. "You are_not_ crazy, by any means. You're a very smart and sane girl. You're just…perceptive. And a lot of people don't understand that."

"I wish I wasn't," I sighed. "Aren't I different enough already?"

"You can't be too different," said Aunt Aredhel wisely. "Don't let Turgon get to you. He's just afraid that you'll make him look bad."

"Thanks, Aunt Aredhel," I said, getting up. "I'm getting pretty tired. Think I'll go to bed now."

"That's a good girl. You've got a lot of packing to do tomorrow."


	3. Welcome Home

**Chapter 3: Welcome Home**

"**This town is a part of us all."**

**-Marge Simpson**

We left two days later, just like Dad said we would. The journey was long and uneventful, and no one noticed us, just like Dad said. So I couldn't really be mad at him for thinking I was crazy since he was being right about so many things. Okay, maybe I'm making excuses for him. But who cares?

A couple of weeks after we set off, Meleth woke me up by shaking my shoulders and hissing, "Idril! Guess what!"

"The world ended," I said.

"No, the world has_not_ ended, you silly girl. It's your birthday."

"My WHA???" I exclaimed.

"It's May 23rd! You're another year older today!"

"Oh, yeah. Cool."

"You don't seem to care much. Are you okay?"

"What does it even matter? Just another year gone by with nothing really great happening. Besides, I'm cold and I need a cup of coffee." I have a bit of a caffeine addiction, I admit it. Even I have my faults.

"Well, get up and we'll get you a cup of coffee. Come ON. We'll be on the move in half an hour and you want to be ready by then."

Sighing, I allowed Meleth to pull me up, help me dress, and get a bit of breakfast before we started off again. As we'd been traveling, I'd noticed that the air was a bit colder than it had been— a sure sign that we were getting further north. I wondered where we were going.

"Hey, Dad!" I called to Dad, who was riding next to me. "Where are we heading? I know we're up north, but where, exactly?"

"We're getting close to the Encircling Mountains," said Dad.

"I knew _that_. We've been approaching the mountains for ages. Where _exactly _are we going?"

" It's at the center of the mountains. We'll be there by the end of the day."

"Be where?"

"Home."

_Home. _Ha. Like this new city could be home to me. Valinor was home, even though I could barely remember it. Vinyamar was home. Some city I'd never heard of would never be home. And I didn't really see why were heading North, anyway. Morgoth's forces were gathered in the North. If we were trying to keep the city hidden, why were we building it there?

_Because no one would ever suspect it, you idiot._

Oh, right. That made sense. Man, I really must be ditzy if I hadn't realized that.

The sun had set by the time we finally made it to the foot of the mountains. We rode forward for a ways more, until we were standing (well, our horses were standing. We were sitting on the horses. But whatever).

"So we're here," I said. It wasn't a question.

"So we're here," replied Dad. The gate opened, and we rode through it. Five more gates passed before we finally got there.

What was "there?"

Only the most perfect, beautiful, insanely amazing city I'd ever seen. Seriously, it was like Vinyamar times ten. It reminded me vaguely of Tirion (where I'd lived for only six years, but I remembered it anyway, sort of).

"Oh, Gods," I said, because there was absolutely nothing better for me to say.

Dad laughed and put a hand on my shoulder. "Happy birthday, Idril!"

Well, then. How many girls get a city as a birthday present?

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"Oh, isn't this wonderful!" sighed Meleth, throwing herself down onto my bed.

"It's very nice, yes," I agreed. It was our second day in Gondolin, and Meleth and I were unpacking. At least, I was unpacking. Meleth was mostly just going on and on about how magnificent the city was. I liked it too, though I wasn't quite used to it yet. For one thing, it was_blinding_. Practically everything was made of white stone, which can be quite pretty in moderation but is rather overwhelming when an entire city was made of it. For another thing, it felt too walled-in, like it was inescapable. I got the feeling that Aunt Aredhel felt the same way—she wasn't used to being so constrained.

"But it's sort of too perfect," I continued. "I keep feeling like it's going to fall apart any second."

"The King had better not hear you saying that!" said Meleth. "He practically worships this place."

"Yeah," I said absently. "Kinda sad, isn't it."

"How is it sad?"

"Well, first of all, we've only been here for a couple days. Dad's barely had time to see if the city is worth worshipping. Besides, Gondolin's just a city, for heaven's sakes! It's a lovely place, yes, but it won't last forever."

"That's not what I've been hearing," said Meleth. "Rumor has it that your father says that Gondolin will never fall to the enemy."

"We'll see about that," I said. "I hope it won't."

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I had a brief conversation with Dad later in the day. According to him, he was trying to keep Gondolin secret so that the Dark Lord's forces would never be able to find/destroy it. Therefore, he wasn't going to let any of the residents leave unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Isn't that a bit harsh?" I said. "I don't think that'll go over very well with Aunt Aredhel, for example. She likes to be able to explore a bit. And she's not the only one. This might not work out too well…"

"Idril, please don't criticize my decisions," said Dad. "Believe me, it's what's best."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't give me that. Really, Dad, I understand why you'd be a bit paranoid, considering everything, but cutting us off from the world won't do a lot of good. Eventually people will get tired of it, and there'll be trouble."

"Well," said Dad, "until then, I stand by what I've said. And besides, Ulmo said that if danger was coming, he'd send someone to warn us or something like that. I couldn't understand what that fellow was driving at half the time. But the point is that we're safe here."

A pox on my father. Didn't he have any sense at all? Wait, I should know better than to ask that. Of course he didn't. Men of power never do. Just look at Great-uncle Feanor.

With one last evil look at Dad, I went back to my room and helped Meleth unpack some more. No sense in being idle just because my dad was an idiot.

**_Notes: I know Elves actually celebrated the day when they were conceived instead of the day they were actaully born, but "Begetting Day" is such a weird phrase. Birthday just sounds better. Sorry about that._**


	4. Aunt Aredhel Goes on Holiday

**Chapter 4: Aunt Aredhel Goes on Holiday**

"**I don't believe in girls going out into the world."**

**-LM Montgomery**

My suspicions about Aunt Aredhel not really liking Gondolin were confirmed some years later when she informed me that she was quite sick of sitting around all the time and intended to leave the city and go hunting for a while.

"Your father's not going to be pleased, of course," she said, sounding resigned, "but I doubt he'll refuse. I _am_ his sister, after all, and there's not a lot he can do to stop me."

"Why is it that the king's sister gets more freedom that the king's daughter?" I asked. "If I wanted to leave Gondolin, Dad would lock me in my room until I changed my mind."

"Because you're more valuable?" said Aunt Aredhel.

I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Okay, I take that back. Turgon is a control freak, and it's easier for him to control his daughter than his sister. Maybe if you stopped being so dang well-behaved all the time he'd respect you a bit more."

I laughed. "I can't believe you're encouraging me to misbehave. Aren't you supposed to be a role model to me?"

"Who's been telling you that?" asked Aunt Aredhel. "I say that if you want respect, sometimes you've got to break the rules. Keep that in mind, young lady." She stood up and smoothed down her light grey trousers. "I'd better go and talk Turgon into letting me leave. Cross your fingers for me."

Of course, I didn't keep my fingers crossed the entire time Aunt Aredhel was out of the room— that would have just been impractical. But I did wish her luck. I knew better than anyone that Aunt Aredhel got dreadfully depressed when anyone kept her inside for too long, and I didn't want that to happen. When she returned a half an hour later, I eagerly asked her what Dad had said.

"He said I can go, but _only _if I just go to visit your uncle Fingon and don't run off," she said. "Quite honestly, I'm not sure if I'll obey him. I can't stand boundaries."

"I don't know if you should just go somewhere else," I said. "Not that I'm underestimating you or anything, but Middle-Earth's a pretty dangerous place. I'd hate for you to get lost or killed."

"Oh, Idril, you worry too much!" said Aunt Aredhel. "I'll be _fine_."

She left a week later. Dad seemed pretty down about her going, which I found very significant since Dad hardly ever showed emotion about anything. I missed her, too— and I couldn't deny that I was green with envy.

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It wasn't until a few months later that we found out what had happened. The escort that Dad had sent with Aunt Aredhel returned, looking very beat-up. Alone.

"Where is my sister?" asked Dad in his sternest, most kingly voice.

"We…don't know," said one of the guys— his name was Arthgon, and he used to play ball with me back when I was a tomboyish teenager. Then I had to go and become pretty, and he started flirting with me like every other guy I knew. Ah well.

"What do you mean?" said Dad.

Arthgon explained. Aunt Aredhel had decided halfway through the journey that she didn't want to go visit Uncle Fingon after all (no surprises THERE), and instead set off to go visit her old friend Celegorm son of Feanor. Unfortunately, they couldn't take a shortcut through Doriath because King Thingol was a prejudiced old coot (he and my dad should have gotten together sometime), so they had to go through this really dangerous territory where it seems they ran into these gigantic spiders. I'd read about said gigantic spiders, but I'd never seen any, which apparently is a pretty good thing. Aunt Aredhel got separated from her escort while fighting, and they would have looked for her if it weren't for the fact that they had to get the heck out of there before they got killed themselves.

So, to sum up, my aunt/favorite person in the universe was either dead or lost, and either way we probably wouldn't be seeing her again.

"Crud!" I muttered. "I knew something like this would happen."

"How did you know that?" asked Dad, turning to me in shock.

"Aunt Aredhel told me before she left that she wasn't necessarily going to go somewhere just because you told her to," I explained. "I should have known that she'd run off and do her own thing."

"You _knew_ she was going to do this?" said Dad furiously. "For the love of the Valar, Idril, why didn't you tell me? We could have avoided all of this!"

As was usual in intense situations like this, I could see straight into Dad's thoughts. What he was thinking was this: _Why on earth didn't Iluvatar give me a son?_

Now, that was uncalled for.

"Why should I have told you?" I cried. "If I had told you, you'd have just forbidden Aunt Aredhel from going, and she'd have gotten really depressed. You never gave your own sister _any _independence, and look what's happened! Why do you never take any blame at all?" I stood and ran to my room, where I burst into angry tears. Blast my family, blast Gondolin, blast Dad and his stupid male pride!


	5. Dysfunction

**Chapter 5: Dysfunction**

"**You can run, you can hide, but you can't escape my love."**

**-Enrique Iglesias**

"Idril, darling," said Dinniel as she braided my hair, "you have absolutely _got _to start wearing shoes. Look at your feet, they're tough as leather."

"Good," I said. "Shoes are uncomfortable, and if I want to go barefoot all the time my feet had better be tough."

Dinniel was five years younger than me, and had been appointed to my staff (which now consisted of two people, her and Meleth) shortly after Aunt Aredhel had disappeared. I think Dad hired her because of her personality, which was the exact opposite of mine (i.e. I was smart and practical; Dinniel was flirtatious and silly). But frivolous as she may have been, she was a nice girl and I loved her.

I just wished she'd stop lecturing me about my clothes.

"You only say shoes are uncomfortable because you don't wear them often enough," said Dinniel. "I mean, you're the king's daughter, honey! Where's your dignity?"

"Dignity?" I snorted. "SO overrated."

"What kind of princess are you?"

"A smart one."

Our banter was interrupted by Meleth, who ran into the room and told me breathlessly that Dad wanted to see me right away. "He says it's important."

"Dad can wait," I said coolly. I was in no mood to talk to my father right now, however important he said it was. "Dinniel and I are arguing about whether or not I need to wear shoes."

"Oh, you totally don't," said Meleth. "Idril has nice feet, Dinniel. What are you drinking?"

"I never said she_didn't _have nice feet," protested Dinniel. "I just said that it wasn't dignified for a princess to go around barefoot all the time. What are people going to think?"

"Dinniel," I said. "I haven't worn shoes since I was twelve. People are used to it by now. Just calm down."

She pouted and tossed her curly, dark brown hair. Dinniel didn't like being outvoted.

"But seriously, Idril, you've got to go downstairs soon," said Meleth. "I know you don't get along with your dad that well, but apparently this is a big deal."

"Did my sainted father happen to tell you _what _this big deal is?" I asked.

Meleth leaned over and whispered in my ear. I leaped up immediately and ran downstairs.

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One minute later I was in the throne room, completely out of breath. Dad frowned at me. "Idril, when I tell you that I want you to come down here, I mean right away, not ten minutes later."

I rolled my eyes and ignored him, focusing my attention on the center of the room, where two people were standing. One of whom I recognized.

"Aunt Aredhel!" I cried, running over and hugging her.

"Idril!" laughed Aunt Aredhel, hugging me back. "Good Gods, I've missed you." She let go of me and stepped back. "Goodness, you haven't gained any weight at all. You have got to start eating more, girl."

"It's not my fault that I can't gain weight," I said. "So where have you been?"

"I'll explain all that in good time," said Aunt Aredhel. "For right now, Idril, meet my son Maeglin."

I looked over at the other person at the room— a young guy with straight black hair, dark brown eyes like me, and unusually pale skin. He was cute, in an overdramatic sort of way.

But still! Aunt Aredhel had a son? I didn't even know she'd gotten _married_!

"My lady," said Maeglin, bending down and kissing my hand. I had to keep myself from jerking away from him.

"Hey, welcome to Gondolin," I said. "But just so you know, my name isn't 'my lady.' It's Idril. Remember that, okay?"

Maeglin looked a little confused, but nodded. "Um…fine, Idril."

"And you can cut out the kissing-the-hand stuff too, while you're at it," I added. "I mean, come on. We're cousins. We can drop the formalities."

"Well, you're certainly as blunt as ever, Idril," said Aunt Aredhel, grinning. "Whatever does your father do with you?"

"I don't need to do much," said Dad. "She mainly looks out for herself."

"I'm neglected," I informed Maeglin, only half kidding. He looked more confused than ever. Gods, this kid was clueless.

"Anyway, Aredhel," said Dad. "Can you please tell us where on earth you were all these years and let us stop worrying?"

"Well, all right," said Aunt Aredhel, looking at the floor. "After I got separated from my escort, I went on to Celegorm's place, but he and Curufin weren't home, so I hung out there for a while. After a year or so, I got sick of waiting around, so I just up and left, and eventually I wound up in this forest, where I met this guy named Eol. Then…" she blushed and shook her head. "…well, let's just say I got married and had Maeglin. Then, after a few years, I got homesick, and so we set out and came back here."

"What did your husband think of that?" I asked.

"I didn't really think about that," admitted Aunt Aredhel. "I suppose he's angry, but what can he do about it?"

The doors to the throne room were flung open.

"Your Majesty!" cried the guard. "We've got trouble."

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_I cannot believe this happened._

I paced back and forth in my room, taking deep breaths to hold back my tears. This was absolutely horrible.

Aunt Aredhel was dying, and I couldn't do anything about it

How could something like this happen? I'd thought that Aunt Aredhel was dead for years, and then she returned, only to get a poisoned spear thrown at her by her insane husband. Yeah, it was ironic, but not at all funny.

_I cannot believe this happened._

Wiping my eyes, I ran to my aunt's bedroom to see her one last time.

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She didn't look too awful. A lot paler than usual, but otherwise she was completely normal. My tough Aunt Aredhel, strong until the end. She smiled when she saw me.

"Idril, honey," she said. "I'm glad to see you."

"Aunt Aredhel," I whispered, kneeling next to her bed. "How are you?"

"Oddly enough, I don't feel so bad. My only regret is that I never told Eol exactly what I thought of him." She laughed. "For the love of the Valar, girl, don't look like that. I'm not worried about my death, so why should you be?"

"Because you're the only person I have," I said, looking away. "You're the only one who understands me."

"It won't be that way forever, I promise."

I shook my head. "I don't think so."

"Idril, my girl, you're far too pessimistic," said Aunt Aredhel. "Say, will you do me a favor? When I kick the bucket, make sure you keep that ridiculous brother of mine from killing Eol in revenge. What he did wasn't right, but the death penalty is far too harsh. For _anyone_."

"Sure, I'll try," I said, though I doubted I was going to be able to convince Dad of anything of the sort. "Aunt Aredhel… I'm so sorry."

She sat straight up, eyes livid. "Don't say that! Don't _ever _say you're sorry, Idril. If you have too many regrets, you'll never achieve anything. I don't want my only niece to go down in history as just another pretty girl. I want you to be known as a strong, intelligent woman who did everything how she wanted to do it and never let anyone hold her back. Promise me that, Idril. Promise me you'll go your own way no matter what."

"I promise," I said quietly.

"Well, that was certainly an exhausting speech," said Aunt Aredhel, leaning back again. "I suppose this is the end. Don't worry, though— you'll be fine without me. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

Aunt Aredhel closed her eyes, sighed, and lay still. I knew it was over. And I knew something else as well. Love messed you up, and marriage never did anyone any good.

"I, Idril Celebrindal daughter of Turgon," I said out loud, "resolve from this day forth that I will _never _marry."


	6. Justice and Recovery

**Chapter 6: Justice and Recovery**

"**The world is an unfair place. Sometimes you're the windshield. Sometimes you're the bug."**

**-Meg Cabot**

Pushing past the guards who wanted to know what the heck I was doing there, I stomped into the dungeon and stopped in front of my uncle Eol's cell. Sweet Cuivienen. This jerk was my _uncle_. How messed up was that?

To tell the truth, my dear old unky didn't look too good. His armor was battered, and his dark hair was a mess. When he looked up at me I could see that his face was bruised and dirty. Briefly I wondered what Aunt Aredhel had seen in this guy before remembering that he had probably been clean when she met him.

"Hello, Eol," I said sharply.

He glared at me with pure hatred. "What do you want, Noldorin girl?"

"My name is Idril," I said. My courage failed me for a moment, and I took a deep breath before continuing. "My name is Idril, and I hate you just as much as you hate me. But I need to talk to you."

"About what?" snapped Eol. "If you're going to tell me what a horrible person I am, don't bother. Your old man's done a pretty good job of showing me that already. I don't think, _princess_, that there's a lot else you can say to me."

"I'm not going to lecture you," I said. "I just need to tell you this, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't interrupt me.

"Aunt Aredhel was the only person in this world that really loved me. She loved me back when I was a plain, awkward teenager. She loved me even though I'm not perfect. She loved me even though I'm smarter than girls are supposed to be. She was a better mother to me than my real mother was. And then you killed her.

"But I'm going to ask my father to spare your life anyway, though I don't think you deserve it. Because that's what Aunt Aredhel asked me to do. And I want to keep my promise to her no matter what kind of a slimeball you are."

I stopped talking and stared Eol straight in the eye. He stared back for a few moments before bursting into wild laughter.

"You're a spitfire, Princess, a first-class spitfire," he said. "And it's going to get you into big trouble someday, mark my words."

"Good night, Uncle," I said.

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My next stop was the living room, where Dad and Maeglin were sitting and looking depressed. As soon as he saw me, Dad leapt up.

"Idril!" he said. "Aredhel…is she…"

"Um," I said, trying to figure out how to word this. Fortunately, it seemed like "um" (which isn't actually a word) was enough.

Dad looked down and sighed. "She died, didn't she."

"I believe she referred to it as 'kicking the bucket,'" I said. "But that's not important. The important thing is that she asked me to tell you to spare Eol's life even though he's a deranged idiot."

Maeglin looked up sharply. "You have _got_ to be joking."

"Maeglin," I said coolly, "when you've lived in Gondolin long enough you will discover that I _never_ joke in serious situations."

"But how could she ask you to spare his life after what he did?" asked Maeglin. "He doesn't deserve to live."

"FYI: He's your_father_, my dear cousin. And your mother insisted that he be spared. Show some support for your freaking parents, will you?"

"Idril. Maeglin. Stop arguing," said Dad, stepping between us. "Idril, I know you want to honor your aunt's wishes. I do too. But the laws of the city say that we can't let Eol live."

"So let me get this straight," I said, frowning. "You're going to ignore your only sister's last request even though you claim to have loved her and even though you're the king and you can bend the rules without getting in any kind of trouble. Is that what you're saying?"

"Well…" said Dad uncertainly. "It's not exactly like _that…_"

"Yeah, okay. You keep telling yourself that." I stood up. "Screw this. You never listen to me and you never will, just because I'm a girl. I should just give up already." Before I stomped out of the room (all my conversations with Dad seemed to end this way) I turned to Maeglin. "Your dad says hi."

I hate to admit it, but the shocked expression on his face left me feeling _very_satisfied.

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The next day we threw Eol off a cliff.

I know, barbaric, right? We could've at least killed the guy in a dignified way. But no, Dad decided that we had to not only ignore Aunt Aredhel's dying wish, but act like an even worse jerk in the process. And Maeglin wasn't being much help, either. Every time I tried to talk to him, he just stared at me in this really weird way. Gee, I really scored in the cousin department.

Before we killed Eol in the most undignified way imaginable, I talked to him one last time.

"I tried," I said. "I really did."

He laughed harshly. "I never thought that your father would listen to you. You're smart enough, all right, but a girl as pretty as you will never be taken seriously. Trust me, princess, that face of yours will do more harm than good."

"Tell me about it," I sighed. I didn't really understand what he meant, as I would later on. "Anyway, say hello to Aunt Aredhel for me."

"I will." Eol shook his head. "Keep an eye on my _son_."

"I will."

I kept an eye on Maeglin throughout the entire throwing-his-father-off-a-cliff deal. He didn't blink an eye, even when his father told him what an arsehole he was and how he was going to ruin his own life and die a horrible death. Well, I've got to hand it to the boy— he certainly did a good impression of a stone wall.

"Don't you feel anything about this?" I asked him afterwards.

"Why should I?" he said, giving me one of those freaky stares of his. "Eol wasn't exactly the greatest, as far as fathers go. To tell the truth, I never really liked him. People in Gondolin are much different…" Maeglin trailed off, but didn't stop staring at me. I repressed a shiver.

"They're not, not really," I said. "People here are as annoying as people anywhere else. We're just richer and better-looking. And weirdly enough, if your father hadn't been a head case, I think I actually might have liked him."

"What makes you say that?"

I thought for a moment before answering. "He wasn't polite to me. Not at all."

"And that's a good quality?"

"If there's one thing I hate more than anything else, it's a suck-up."

Maeglin raised his eyebrows, blinked, and turned away. Focusing, I tried to see what he was thinking. I couldn't see everything— a lot of his thoughts were blocked— but I did get one sentence: _Turgon certainly has a very unusual daughter_.

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The days afterward were very strange. I kept having these feelings like something horrible was going on, but I didn't know what. It sucked, and Dinniel and Meleth, lovely as they were, weren't being a lot of help. You could tell that they really wanted to try to cheer me up, and they made valiant efforts, but nothing worked. I was at an all-time low and I could do nothing about it.

But time heals almost everything, and after six months or so I started enjoying life a bit more and threw myself back into my studies with a passion. It's what Aunt Aredhel would've wanted, after all.


	7. Unwelcome Romance

**Chapter 7: Unwelcome Romance**

"**I won't live in a town that robs men of the right to marry their cousins."**

**-Matt Groening **

I blame it on my father— that and my hair. Curse that freakishly beautiful hair of mine. I really had the right idea when I was sixteen and cut most of it off (too bad it grew back and I was too lazy to cut it again).

Dad, you see, had no idea that I'd vowed never to marry. I didn't tell him because I knew that it would result in lots of yelling and I wasn't really in the mood for that, and besides, it wasn't any of his business anyway. But eventually, I had no choice but to tell him.

We were all sitting around the dinner table one night in late fall, about a year after Aunt Aredhel's death. A fire was blazing in the hearth, and we could hear the wind howling outside. I was in a good mood, since I_love_ being inside when it's cold out and I _love_ roast venison, which was what we were having for supper. Things seemed to be going my way for once.

"Idril," said Dad out of the blue, "you're quite grown up now. I presume you'll be thinking about finding a husband soon."

I nearly spat out the wine I was drinking. "_What_?"

"Now, now, don't worry," assured Dad. "I'm not going to arrange a marriage for you, or anything. You're an intelligent girl; I trust your judgment enough to let you marry who you want." He leaned back in his chair, looking very self-satisfied.

"Well, Dad," I said, choosing my words carefully, "while I _do_ appreciate your trust of my judgment, you realize that this is going to make every eligible bachelor in the city throw themselves at me."

"I should think you'd like that."

"I wouldn't. You see, Dad, the thing is—" I took a deep breath— "I don't want to get married. Ever. To anyone."

"Not…get…married?" said my poor father, sitting up straight. He didn't seem to be able to wrap his mind around this at all. Neither did Maeglin, who looked horrified. "But Idril, you've got to marry eventually. For a girl to go all her life unmarried…it's simply not done."

"It'll be done by me."

Dad sighed and shook his head. "All my life, I've wanted to see you happily married. Will you deny me of that pleasure?"

"Oh, Daddy," I said sweetly. "You're so nice to worry about me, but 'happily married' is an oxymoron. Remember what happened to Aunt Aredhel?"

_Yes!_ I thought as Dad stared at me, speechless. _Score one for Idril_.

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"Oh no she di-in't!" said Meleth admiringly when I told her and Dinniel what I had said to Dad.

"Oh yes she did," said Dinniel, not at all admiringly. "The question is _why_. What on earth do you have against getting married, Idril? Almost everyone gets married sooner or later."

"Marriage is dumb, and it's never done any woman in my family any good," I replied. "Look at Great-grandma Indis, or Grandma Anaire, or Great-aunt Nerdanel, or Aunt Aredhel, or even my mom. Two of them are dead, one of them is a widow, and the other two are alone in Valinor. I don't know about you, but I don't want to end up like that. All guys are jerks." I sighed and sat down. "Besides, there's no one in this city I'd even consider marrying."

"Not even Glorfindel?" asked Dinniel

Glorfindel, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, was one of the most eligible guys in Gondolin. He was good-looking, witty, and filthy rich, and Dinniel had this weird idea that we were perfect for each other. I liked Glorfindel, I really did, but he was more of a friend than a potential husband.

"Not even Glorfindel," I said. "Stop trying to set me up with him."

She looked disappointed. "But you two would be so cute together. You're both blond, and really tall, and everything."

"Dinniel, just because they look good together doesn't mean that they should get married," Meleth pointed out.

"Thank you, darling," I said, patting her on the shoulder. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd go crazy," said Meleth. "Anyway, Din, if you like Glorfindel so much you can marry him yourself."

Dinniel looked like she was considering that for a moment, then shook her head. "Nah, he's too rich for me. Anyway, he's not my type."

"Well, he's not my type either," I said. "So you can forget that little matchmaking scheme."

"Idril, honey," said Dinniel with a sigh, "you are going to end up a very sad, lonely genius."

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That was my father's part in the fiasco. My hair's part was much weirder.

Gondolin, back in the day, was full to the brim of fountains. We had so many fountains that if you dumped all the contents of every one of them on the ground, there would have been a major flood and everyone's floors would have been ruined. I actually kind of liked this, since there's nothing more relaxing than sitting next to a fountain reading. Which was what I was doing when the dam burst.

It was the day after Dad's and my little argument— one of those freakishly warm winter days that feels like spring but isn't. I was feeling a bit free-spirited, so I pulled my hair out of its usual braid and let it hang loose around my shoulders. Big mistake.

My hair, for some reason, has always had this weird hypnotic power over people. That sounds incredibly dumb, doesn't it? Well, it is dumb (hello, am I the only golden-haired girl these weirdoes have ever seen?), but it's also true. Whenever I meet anyone (especially guys) for the first time, they stare at my hair and ignore anything I'm saying, making it extremely hard to get my point across. Thank you for the heredity, mother dear.

Wait. Where was I? Oh yes, sitting by the fountain and being dumb enough to take my hair out of its braid.

"Um, Idril?"

I jumped and looked around. Maeglin was standing next to me with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Oh, hey, Maeglin," I said. I wasn't in much of a mood to talk to anyone that day, but I had nothing much against Maeglin. Except that he was kind of creepy. "You want to sit down?"

"Thanks." He sat down, and didn't say anything for a few minutes. This was the irritating thing about Maeglin— it took him ages to decide what he was going to say. Finally I got fed up with the silence.

"Look, I know you didn't come over here to just sit around, so tell me why you're here and get it over with," I snapped. "I have no patience with stallers."

Maeglin cleared his throat. "Look, Idril…I think maybe you should reconsider this whole not-getting-married thing."

"Hmm," I said. "And why would you say that?"

"Well, just because Mother's marriage failed doesn't mean it's always like that. It's different when you're with someone who really loves you."

"Maybe when you're not a member of the House of Finwe," I said dryly. "Anyway, what does it matter to you whether or not I get married? It's none of your business."

"Actually," said Maeglin, "it is."

I stared at him for a moment, wondering what he was getting at. It only took me a few seconds to figure it out, and when I did, I was horrified.

"Oh, Gods, Maeglin," I said. "That is _so _wrong."

"Why?" asked Maeglin. "I love you, Idril. Why is that wrong?"

"Because we're_cousins_. It's against the law for us to get married."

"That's a dumb law. Besides, you said yourself that royalty can bend the rules without getting in trouble."

"Yeah," I argued, "but I never said we SHOULD. And I don't love you!"

"You will eventually."

"What makes you so sure?"

He didn't answer right away— I had him, and he knew it. Which would probably account for what he did next.

"I just know," he said, and kissed me.

_Ew! Ew! Ew!_

I pushed him off as soon as my reflexes came back into use. "What is your_problem_?"

"What?" asked Maeglin, looking genuinely surprised.

"Okay, just shut up. Do not even talk to me. I don't love you and I never will. Just LEAVE ME ALONE!" I slapped him across the face for good measure and ran.

When I got to my room, I threw myself onto my bed and burst into tears. Valar, my life sucked. Aunt Aredhel was dead, Dad was a jerk, and my first kiss had been with my insane, creepy cousin. Why was I being put through all this? What good could it possibly do me?

I wouldn't know the answer to that for a good long time.


	8. One Green Stone

**Chapter 8: One Green Stone**

"**We are living in a material world"**

**-Madonna**

My dear friends were incredibly sympathetic when they heard about what had happened with Maeglin. Meleth said that she'd always known that something "wasn't quite right" with Maeglin.

"I mean, raised in Nan Elmoth? He's bound to have some problems," she said. "You poor girl, though. I don't know what I'd do if that happened to_me_."

Dinniel shuddered delicately. "I can't believe I thought that guy was cute."

"You thought he was_cute_?" I cried. "Dinniel!"

"Idril, Dinniel thinks everyone's cute," comforted Meleth. "Don't worry. She's just like that."

"I don't think Salgant's cute," said Dinniel defensively.

"Who would?" asked Meleth. "Seriously, I didn't think it was possible for an Elf to get fat."

"Ecthelion's hot, though."

"Totally."

"Um, excuse me?" I said. "I thought we were talking about Maeglin being nuts, not who's cute and who's not. You two need to learn to stay on topic."

"I thought we exhausted that topic already," said Dinniel.

"We have not. After all, we still have to figure out what to do."

"Oh, that's no big deal," said Meleth. "Just ignore him, and if he hits on you again, punch him. Sometimes you've got to show a guy who's boss."

"Like you would even know!" said Dinniel. "When was the last time anything like this happened to _you_?"

"You're not the only one who has boy troubles, you know. Just because _you're _a total flirt…"

"I am not!"

"Yeah, right. Every week you come running to us squealing about how so-and-so is _so_cool and you're totally in love with him. Girlfriend, you're never _not _in love. That's sad, you know?"

Well, maybe they weren't as sympathetic as I'd have liked. But they were for a few minutes, anyway.

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Maeglin had only been in Gondolin for a short time, but he'd already managed to build up a solid group of friends. To be more precise, a solid group of two friends: Enerdhil and Salgant. Enerdhil was this sweet, super-shy boy who spent most of his time in his workshop obsessing over gemstones, with messy black hair and light brown eyes. I liked him, even though it was obvious that he had a crush on me and turned bright red whenever I talked to him.

Salgant, though, I didn't like at all. I've said before that there's nothing I hate worse than a suck-up, so of course he and I didn't get along. I swear, he would do pretty much anything to gain social status (which, ironically enough, resulted in his being disliked by almost everyone. Ha). He was a musician— at least, he tried to be— and totally idolized my dad's half-cousin Maglor, who was supposedly the greatest singer living or something. I'd only met Maglor a few times, but I did remember that he had long, dark red hair, hardly ever talked, and was always holding a cup of coffee but never seemed fully awake. I believe the word he would have used to describe Salgant would be "poser".

Why Maeglin chose to hang out with Salgant I will never know. I suppose it's just one of life's many mysteries. But since Salgant isn't important to this part of the story and Enerdhil is, we'll get back to Enerdhil.

People said that Enerdhil was currently the greatest jeweler in all of Middle-Earth, which I hoped wasn't true because the last person to hold that title had been my great-uncle Feanor and we all know what happened to_him_. Seriously, though, Enerdhil was very skilled, and for a kid his age he was making a very nice living. He'd made Dinniel's favorite pair of earrings that she wore all the time— for which feat alone I applaud him, as it was extremely rare that Dinniel found a piece of jewelry that she could stand to wear more than twice.

I ran into Enerdhil a couple of months after what I referred to as the Maeglin Incident. It was on Rose Alley (one of Gondolin's nicest streets) and I was just hanging out, trying to relax—harder than it sounds, as I'd had trouble relaxing for a good long time. Noticing Enerdhil coming out of one of the buildings along the street, I walked over to him, desperate for some conversation.

"Hello, Enerdhil," I said. "Nice day, isn't it?"

He jumped and turned bright red when he saw it was me. "Idril! I was just looking for you."

"Well, it's lucky for you that I'm here, then," I said. "What did you need to talk to me about?" I hoped he wasn't going to tell me that he loved me or anything like that. I already knew he liked me, and I'd had quite enough of _that_ lately.

"I've recently made something in my forge, and I was wondering if you wanted to see it."

Well, that sounded harmless enough, so I nodded. "Okay. Hit me."

Enerdhil reached in his pocket and pulled out the prettiest necklace I'd ever seen. It was a gold-green stone—the same color as the sun through the leaves—on a silver chain, and had obviously taken ages to make.

"That's cool," I said. "You're seriously good, Enerdhil."

"Um, thanks," Enerdhil said. "I call the jewel the Elessar.You can have it, if you want." He handed me the necklace, which I put on.

"Thanks, Enerdhil, you're a dear," I said, bending down (he was, like, five inches shorter than me) and kissing him on the cheek. Leaving the poor boy behind me turning redder than ever, I went back home to show my new necklace to my friends.

On my way back home I truly inspected the jewel. It was beautiful, yeah, but there was something more to it, too— something powerful. What it was I couldn't say, but it felt good. Really good. This jewel felt_healing_, somehow.

_Good job, Enerdhil_, I thought. _You've proved that sane people can create semi-enchanted stones._

_**Yeah, this chapter was slightly random…**_

_**Anyhoo, thanks very much to my reviewers. I enjoyed reading your comments. : )**_


	9. The Sons of Hador

**Chapter 9: The Sons of Hador**

"**Teenagers scare the living sh out of me"**

**-My Chemical Romance**

Some time after the Maeglinn Incident and the Elessar Incident, I was sitting in my room reading. It was a summer evening, nothing had happened in Gondolin for ages, and I was content. Completely content. I suppose I should learn that being completely content is _not_ a good idea, as it almost always results in your getting a nasty surprise.

This time, the nasty surprise came in the form of my old friend Thorondor, King of the Eagles. Thorondor and his eagles hung around in the mountains surrounding the city, keeping an eye on things. For the most part they kept to themselves, but I liked them anyway. None of them ever flirted with me.

Thorondor landed on my balcony and hissed my name. "Idril! Come out here!"

Not knowing who it was at the time, I set down my book and went out cautiously. When I saw Thorondor, I sighed with relief. "Oh, it's just you, Thorondor. How can I help you?"

"Well, I'll cut to the chase, my girl," said Thorondor in his screechy eagle-voice. "Something has occurred that I believe needs your attention."

"Why are you coming to me?" I asked innocently. "I thought my father was the chief problem-solver."

The eagle shook his head disapprovingly. "Now, Idril, you and I both know that you're far better than the King in situations that do not involve gold."

I laughed. "How true. What's the problem?"

"It's rather difficult to explain. Come with me."

"Come with me" meant that I climbed on top of Thorondor's wide, feathery back and we flew discreetly to the guard tower on the east wall. I surveyed the situation as I entered. There were a couple of guards sitting at a table and arm wrestling, two eagles resting on the floor, and two teenage boys who I'd never seen before standing around looking nervous. One of them was tall and skinny, with messy, shoulder-length blonde hair, and the other one was, well, less tall, with neater, shorter hair. The shorter one looked kind of older, so I turned to him. "Who are you?"

"I'm Hurin son of Galdor of of the House of Hador, and this is my younger brother Huor," said the boy proudly.

"Ah, I see." Mortals, then. Hmm. "How old are you?"

"He's sixteen, but he looks thirteen. I'm thirteen, but I look sixteen," said the boy Hurin had introduced as Huor, grinning. "There's genetics for ya."

"And—if you'll excuse my putting it bluntly—what in Iluvatar's name are you doing here?"

Hurin frowned. "Who are you, and why should we tell you anything?"

"I'm Idril, the King of Gondolin's daughter," I said. "And you should tell me because I'm the most sensible person in this city and I'll probably be able to figure out a way to get you back where belong."

There was an awkward silence, broken at last when Huor laughed and punched his brother in the shoulder. "Dude! You just dissed a princess!"

Hurin looked guilty.. "Sorry, miss."

"No problem. You've every right to be cautious. I would too, if I was in your position," I said. "But please, tell me what happened to you. It could be important."

"Okay," said Hurin. "We were living with our uncle Haldir—'cause kids grow up better in other people's houses, you know—and we heard that a bunch of troops were going to be sent to fight the orcs."

"So of course we _had_ to go," Huor put in. "Unfortunately, since they thought we were too young, they didn't put us with the main company—"

"And the company we were with got attacked an split up," Hurin continued. "So there we are, lost in the wilderness with no food and orcs on our tail, when this huge mist comes up, completely hiding us. Obviously, we take advantage of it and run like heck, only to find ourselves even_more _lost."

"Lucky for us, your eagles over there found us and brought us to Gondolin," finished Huor. "So here we are."

"They're not _my_eagles," I corrected. "But that's a very interesting story. Do you swear that every word of it is true?"

"We swear," said Hurin.

"All right, then." I sighed. "I suppose I'd better take you to see Dad, then."

"The king?" said Huor eagerly. "Sweet. I've never seen a king before."

"My father's not much of a king," I said. "But he's rich and he's in a position of authority, and I suppose that's all that matters." I turned to Thorondor. "You can go now if you want."

He bowed, as much as an eagle can bow. "Good night, Princess."

Thorondor and the other eagles flew off, and I took the boys to the palace to meet my father.

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I knocked on the door of Dad's study, nervously rubbing the Elessar as I did so. Since I'd gotten it, I'd taken to touching the stone whenever I was worried about something— it comforted me.

"Come in," Dad called.

"Hey, Dad," I said, throwing open the door and stepping in the door. Dad looked up, his eyes widening when he saw Hurin and Huor.

"Who are…"

"These are Hurin and Huor, sons of Galdor of the house of Hador," I explained, cutting in neatly. "The eagles brought them to the city."

My father relaxed visibly. "House of Hador? Well, that's all right, then. I'll send for someone to get you settled in."

"Wait, hold it," said Huor frowning. "Why does it matter what house we're from?"

Hurin elbowed him. "Shut _up_, Huor!" he hissed. "Do you always have to ask so many freaking _questions_?"

"I was told to be kind to the Sons of Hador," Dad said, not hearing Hurin. "But that's nothing for you boys to worry about. What matters is that you're here and we'll treat you well." He called for a servant, who came and led the boys out of the room.

"Who told you to be kind to the Sons of Hador?" I asked as soon as the door closed.

"Ulmo," said Dad.

"Why'd he tell you that?"

"I don't know, Idril. I am not in charge of what the Valar do."

"Well, then," I said, "what are we going to do about Hurin and Huor?"

"_We_ are not going to do anything," said Dad firmly. "_I _am going to make the arrangements for the boys, and _you_ are going to be a good girl and leave everything to me." He went back to his papers. "Supper's in an hour."

"But…" I started to argue with him (about me doing nothing, not about supper) but decided not to. The truth was, I was tired, and over the years I'd become somewhat immune to Dad's patronizing, so I went upstairs and relaxed until supper.

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At supper, Huor ate like a starving wolf while his brother mostly just sat around acting awed at everything. I decided that their lives back at home must have been decidedly _un-_luxurious if this was how my home city affected them.

"Sheesh, Hurin," said Huor, taking a brief break from his meal to breathe. "Aren't you gonna eat anything? I thought you were starving."

"Oh, shut your face," snapped Hurin. "Is food all you ever think about?"

"Yep," said Huor brightly. To prove this point, he stole a piece of bread off of his brother's plate and proceeded to inhale it.

Maeglin scowled. For reasons which I could not understand, he seemed to have something against Hurin and Huor and the fact that they were now residing in our lovely city. Apparently he didn't like mortals.

"Your city's really cool, sir," said Hurin politely to Dad, who smiled and thanked him. Dad, on the other hand, seemed to like the boys quite a bit, and not just because he'd been told to by some omnipotent wet guy with a beard. I liked them too— they weren't as stiff and formal as most of the people I knew. And no matter how serious Hurin acted, I knew that he was the sort of person who could be a bit of a rascal when he wanted to be.

"I spent years building it," said Dad to Hurin. "Difficult job, but it was definitely worth it."

"When are we gonna get sent home?" asked Huor.

"Yes, when _are_ we going to send them home?" asked Maeglin. I stomped on his foot.

"You can stay for however long you like," said Dad. "Treat this city as your home."

Hurin looked at Huor, and Huor looked at Hurin.

"Sweet," they said.


	10. Kindred Spirits

**Chapter 10: Kindred Spirits**

"**That was about as classy as a rat with a gold tooth."**

**-Ian Dickson**

"Hey, Idril."

I turned around and saw Huor standing in front of me. We were in the library at the time, where I had been spending most of my free time these days.

"I can call you Idril, right?" he continued. "I mean, you don't want me to call you 'Your Highness' or anything, right?"

"Oh, no, that's fine," I said, smiling. "I _hate_ it when people call me 'Your Highness' or Milady.' Just because I'm a king's daughter doesn't mean that I'm that much better than anyone else."

"Yeah, that makes sense," said Huor. "I mean, we're all just people, really."

Wow. Smart kid.

"So how are you and Hurin liking Gondolin?" I asked.

"I like it," said Huor. "The people are friendlier and the food is better than what I'm used to. And I think Hurin agrees."

"I'm glad you think so," I said. "Personally, I'm a bit sick of it, but that's neither here nor there."

Huor nodded. "At least you're honest. That's cool."

"Someone in this city has to be," I muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Huor.

I couldn't believe that I was telling this sort of thing to a thirteen-year-old boy, but I plowed ahead. "It just seems like everything about this place is artificial. It's an illusion, and it convinces everyone that because Gondolin is beautiful, everything else is perfect." I sighed. "This city is so _hollow_."

"Whoa," said Huor. "That's heavy, dude. So if you hate things here so much, why don't you try to change it?"

With a bitter laugh, I shook my head. "What makes you think that I could change anything?"

"Aren't you the king's daughter?" said Huor. "You're freakin' royalty. Royal people are usually pretty influential."

"Yes, I'm the king's daughter," I replied. "Emphasis on the word _daughter_. I'm a woman. I have absolutely no power at all. This is a man's world, Huor, and there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"That's good news for me," said Huor thoughtfully, "but probably not for you. I don't think you should give up yet. There's gotta be _something_ you can do."

"I'll think about it," I said, shrugging. "But enough of this. There is something profoudly illogical about a mortal teenager giving an Elf princess advice, and anyway I'm too tired to do any deep thinking. Tell me about where you come from."

"Brethil?" said Huor. He shook his head. "There's not much to say about Brethil. It's just kind of…there. There's a lot of trees, and it gets really cold in the winter, and the hunting's good. Oh, and technically it's owed by King Thingol, but no one really remembers that."

"Ah yes, King Thingol," I said. "You know, if he and my dad weren't from two different tribes, I always thought that they'd get long well."

"Why?"

"Because they're both extremely stubborn, extremely materialistic, and basically jerks."

Huor frowned. "You really hate your dad, don't you."

"I don't!" I protested. "I really don't. I mean, he's my dad, and I love him. He just really, really irritates me sometimes. Well, most of the time, actually."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine, he irritates me _all _of the time," I admitted. "But he's still my father. I'm obligated to love him."

"I feel that way about my dad too sometimes," Huor laughed. "Grown-ups are weird."

"I'm grown up," I said.

"Really?" said Huor. "You don't act like it."

This time it was my turn to raise an eyebrow.

"That was a compliment," said Huor. "It doesn't mean you're immature or anything."

"Huor, you've been here for four days and already you can tell exactly what I'm thinking," I said. "How do you do it?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just like that."

I grinned. "Join the club."

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That evening Dad, Maeglin, Meleth and I were all hanging out in the sitting room. Meleth was knitting, Dad and I were reading, and Maeglin was staring abesently into the distance. Dinniel was at a party—being one of the most popular girls in Gondolin, she was hardly ever around on a Friday night.

"What do you think of our young guests?" asked Dad suddenly, looking up from his book.

"They're okay," said Meleth, and went back to her knitting. You really couldn't have a conversation with Meleth when she was concentrating on something.

"I hate them," said Maeglin sharply.

"Why?" I asked. "They haven't done anything to do."

"They're _mortals_," spat Maeglin. "They don't belong here, and I think it was a mistake to let them stay with us. I'm pretty sure we'll regret it."

"What were we_supposed_ to do?" I retorted. "Just leave them to starve in the wilderness? They're just kids, Maeglin. What could happen?"

"Well, what are we going to do with them now?" said Maeglin. "We can't let them leave, or they might tell someone where we are, but I don't want them staying here forever, either."

"That, Maeglin, is not your decision," said Dad sternly. "Personally, I rather like Hurin and Huor. They remind me of your uncle Fingon and I when we were boys."

"Then why don't you let them choose whether they want to stay or not?" said Meleth. "It's really the only polite thing to do."

Dad looked surprised, then nodded. "You're right, Meleth, that's a very good idea. We ought to let the boys choose. Idril, they seem to like you quite a bit; will you ask them?"

I was delighted. Not because of Dad's decision (though that in and of itself was pretty good) but because for once in my life, Dad had actually asked me to do something.

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Later that evening I went to Hurin and Huor's room and knocked on the door. "Guys?" I said softly. "It's me, Idril. Can I come in? I need to ask you something."

The door was opened by short, serious Hurin, who cracked a bit of a smile when he saw me. "Hey, Idril, come on in. We're just hanging out; you're not disturbing anything."

I came in, to be greeted by Huor jumping off his bed and running over to me. "Hey, Idril! What're you doing in here?"

"My dad asked me to talk to you guys," I said. "Can I sit down?"

"Sure," said Hurin. I sat down on the bed, and they sat on either side of me.

"We were talking earlier," I began, "and we were wondering what's to be done about you guys. My cousin Maeglin didn't think that you should be allowed to leave, because he thought you might tell someone the location of the city, but I told him that that was stupid, and Dad said that you should be allowed to decide. So…do you want to stay here or go home eventually?"

"Huh, hard decision," said Huor. "Can we talk about it for a second?"

"Sure," I said. The boys went off to one corner of the room and whispered urgently for a minute or so before coming back and sitting down.

"We have decided," Hurin said solemnly, "that we wouldn't mind staying here for a little longer, though we would like to go home eventually."

"Oh, good, that's what I was hoping you'd say," I said, relieved. "Quite honestly, I like having you guys around. You're fun."

"Yeah, we like you too," said Huor. "You're like an older sister to us, isn't she, Hurin."

"Totally," said Hurin. "You're way less snobby that we thought a pretty Elf princess would be."

I slapped him slightly on the back. "Oh, shut up."


	11. The Departure, the Dream, and the Letter

**_Yay! More reviews! I love you people. Here's another chapter._  
**

**Chapter 11: The Departure, the Dream, and the Letter**

"**Why do we try to create the illusion of being completely in control of our entire existence, when we know with absolute certainty that we are not?"**

**-Bradley Trevor Greive**

Huor and Hurin stayed in Gondolin for about another year, after which they decided that they were quite homesick and didn't really want to stick around any longer.

"Here's the deal, basically," said Hurin to Dad. "We're mortals, and not like you Elves. You can hang around for ages waiting for some war to be declared, but we don't live very long, and eventually we'll be too old to fight. Besides, we didn't exactly _come_ to this city, since the eagles brought us, and we don't really know exactly where it is. So can you let us go home now? Because we really want to help our families."

Dad sighed, and looked at me. I nodded. My father had started taking my advice in all matters concerning the boys, probably because I was the one who had taken care of them for most of the time that they were here, and I liked the power.

"All right," said Dad to Hurin and Huor. "I'll have Thorondor tell his eagles to take you home, if that's okay with him. I will miss you boys, but I have a feeling we might meet again someday."

"I hope you two realize how lucky you are," said Maeglin sourly. "Normally you'd have no choice but to stay here."

"No _duh_," said Huor. "What do you take us for?"

"We know perfectly well how lucky we are," said Hurin. "But if our word isn't enough, then we vow to never, ever tell _anyone_ where this city is or anything we've seen here. Right, Huor?"

"Right-o," said Huor. "We vow."

"That's good enough for me," I said. "Gods, I am going to miss you guys, though. It's been ages since I got to hang out with cool teenage boys."

"We'll miss you too," said Hurin. "Maybe we'll see you again someday too, huh?"

"I don't know about that," I said, "but I'll never forget either of you."

"Same here," said Huor.

"Well," said Dad, "you boys had better get packed up. I hear there's some bad weather coming, and you should try to get home as soon as possible."

Before he left the room, Huor grabbed my sleeve and whispered in my ear. "I probably won't ever see you again, Idril, but our futures are going to be connected somehow. I can feel it."

Funny. I sort of felt the same way.

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The night after Hurin and Huor left, I had what is arguably the strangest dream I have ever had in my entire life. I have a habit of having somewhat strange, prophetic dreams—back when I was a little kid back in Valinor, I had this completely random dream about a wall of ice, and Dad and I walked through it, leaving my mom on the other side. Well, not too many years afterward, we crossed the Helcaraxe and Mom died. Nice, huh.

This dream was even more random. In it, I was standing on the porch of a house by the city walls, and everything looked normal except that the house by which I was standing did not currently exist, and that all the buildings were on fire.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, but didn't turn around to see who it was. In my dream I somehow already knew.

"I told him so," said a weirdly familiar-sounding voice.

"I know you did," I said. "I told him too. He's just so stubborn. And now we're all doomed."

"But at least we did what we were supposed to do," said the voice. "We tried our best to warn him, and now it's up to fate."

"Are you going to go fight?" I asked.

"It's my duty as the king's son-in-law. Don't worry, I'll be fine. Haven't I been fighting since I was eight?"

I sighed and leaned my head on whoever-it-was' shoulder. "Yeah, I know. I love you."

"I love you too," said whoever-it-was. "Look after him."

Whoever-it-was kissed my hair and started to walk away. I stood there, staring at the burning city for a few minutes, then quickly turned and ran after whoever-it-was. "_Wait_!" I cried frantically. "_How will I find you_?"

He turned around and smiled, and I saw his eyes for a brief moment—they were the same deep turquoise as the ocean on a clear day.

"You don't have to worry about that, Idril," he said. "We'll find each other. We always find each other."

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I woke up feeling very confused, and wondering the following things:

Who was the guy that I was talking to?

Why did he say that he was the king's son-in-law?

Oh Gods, did that mean I was _married_ to him?

Was I going to break my vow to never get married?

Besides, why was the city on fire?

And why did I say that we were all doomed?

And who was the "him" that the guy had mentioned?

And was this whole thing just a dumb, random dream, or was it significant somehow?

I groaned and rolled over. Man oh man, was I messed up.

After a few more minutes of trying to fall asleep, I gave up and walked over to my desk, where I took out a quill and a piece of parchment. Dipping the quill in the ink, I started to write as quickly as I could.

_Dear Aunt Aredhel,_

_It feels weird writing to a dead person. Like, how are you going to reply? But you're the only person I could really ever trust, and you're the only person I can talk to now._

_A lot has happened since you left. For example, your son has fallen in love with me, which is very awkward since 1) I don't love him, and 2) we're_cousins_, and that is just wrong. I'm pretty sure that this is his father coming out in him. No offense, Auntie, but you didn't make a very good choice as far as husbands go._

_But I guess you realize that by now, since he killed you. Ha. Ha._

_Anyway, what else has happened lately? A couple of mortal teenagers showed up here about a year ago— Hurin and Huor of the house of Hador—that was pretty cool. They're nice kids. I felt a sort of connection with Huor, especially. Hurin was nice too, but a little too serious for my taste (I'm serious enough myself; I don't want all my friends to be too!) Both of them left earlier today, which was sad, but I guess their family probably misses them. I know I will._

_The real reason I'm writing to you, though, is this: A while ago, I had this really weird dream. I was talking to this guy, and I think I was married to him or something, and the city was on fire and he said that he had to go and fight. I don't know why, but when he walked away from me, it _hurt_. Gods, it hurt._

_So I asked him how I would find him, and he turned around and said that I didn't have to worry, and that we'd find each other. Which is weird, because I think I was talking about the battle, and I don't think he was._

_I didn't see what he looked like exactly, but from what I remember he was kind of cute. He had blue eyes._

_I'm scared, Aunt Aredhel. This probably means something, but I don't know what, and there's nothing I can do about it. I wish you were here so I could actually talk to you about this. Writing this letter won't do any good._

_Have fun in Mandos._

_Love, Idril_

I put down my pen and went back to bed. This time, I slept.


	12. Party Girl

_**Every story needs one of these—the frivolous, fun chapter that has almost nothing to do with the rest of the story. Here's this story's!**_

_**Oh, and PS: The following quote was not actually ever said by anyone. I just made it up because I thought it sounded cool, and it seemed like something Maglor might say.**_

**Chapter 12: Party Girl**

"**Normality is for the weak. It takes guts to be as weird as I am."**

**-Maglor son of Feanor**

The definition of "social butterfly?" That would be my girl Dinniel. She knew everything about everyone, everyone liked her, and there wasn't a social event in the city that she didn't score an invite to somehow. I occasionally went with her to these—mostly for the free food, though, not because I particularly liked social events.

So when Dinniel ran into my room squealing about how she'd gotten invited to this party and how I absolutely _had _to come with her, I was somewhat skeptical.

"Who's giving it?" I asked.

"Glorfindel," said Dinniel brightly.

Ah, I understood what_this _was about. No wonder Dinniel was so excited about it. Nice try, honey.

"Please, Dinniel, stop trying to set me up with Glorfindel," I said. "He's nice, but you know perfectly well that it's hopeless."

"Idril, I'm not trying to set you up with him," said Dinniel. "But Glorfindel always throws the _best_ parties, and you've been so stressed lately that I think you need to have a good time. Meleth's coming too!"

"Fine, fine," I sighed. "But I'm only coming because I know that you'll bug me until I go insane if I don't."

Dinniel squealed in delight. "Hooray! Oh, and you have to wear that dark blue dress. It's _so _hot."

"No way am I wearing that dress," I said firmly. "Everyone always stares at me when I wear it, and I'm in no mood to be conspicuous tonight. You'll take me as I am or not at all."

"Oh, but that dress is so gloomy," whined Dinniel, eyeing my black cotton dress with disdain. She herself was wearing a low-cut dark red dress that made her look even more of a flirt. "Are you sure?"

"Heck yes," I said. "When does the party start?"

She glanced at the clock. "In about fifteen minutes. Come on, let's get Meleth and go go go!"

Meleth met up with us in the hallway. She was wearing a pale pink dress with lace around the hem, looking very girly in comparison with glamorous Dinniel and gloomy me. "This is going to be so cool," she said eagerly. "I can't remember the last time all of us went out together."

"You can blame Her Highness here for that," said Dinniel, frowning at me. "She's such a recluse."

"I cause a lot less trouble when I'm not out in the open," I explained.

"She still blames herself for the whole Maeglin deal," said Meleth, apparently deciding that I wasn't there.

"And it totally wasn't her fault," said Dinniel. "She can't help it that she's pretty."

"You guys are so nice," I said. "But can you please stop talking about me like I'm not here? Nothing is more irritating than that. Nothing."

"I thought that you caused less trouble when everyone ignored you," said Meleth innocently.

I pinched her.

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By the time we got to Glorfindel's house, the party was already in full swing. Loud music was blaring, people were dancing, and the floor already had stains on it from spilled drinks. Most of the guests I knew—rich kids who had way too much money, way too much time, and way too much freedom.

Dinniel almost instantly disappeared into the crowd with some guy, and Meleth looked at me apologetically. "Hey, Idril, is it okay if I go talk to some people? I don't want to leave you alone…"

"That's fine," I said. "Go have fun. I'll just hang out here for a while."

"Thanks!" Meleth ran off and joined some girls that she and Dinniel and I occasionally hung out with. I scanned the room, located Glorfindel leaning against a nearby wall holding a glass of wine, and walked over to him. At least I'd have someone to talk to.

"Idril!" cried Glorfindel when he saw me. "Where have you been hiding that pretty face of yours? I haven't seen you in _ages_."

I smiled. It may have sounded like Glorfindel was flirting with me, but in truth that was how he talked to everyone. Even guys, occasionally.

"I guess I haven't been in much of a partying mood lately," I explained. "Good crowd tonight."

"It is, isn't it," Glorfindel replied. "Would you believe that half the people I invited couldn't come?"

"That," I said, "may be a good thing. Especially as far as your furniture is concerned."

Glorfindel laughed. "How true. Say, I like your dress."

"Is that sincere, or are you being sarcastic?" I asked. "My friends hate it."

"No, I'm sincere, I swear," said Glorfindel. "You look good in black. Not a lot of blond girls do."

"Well, then, thank you," I said. "It's definitely not as nice as Dinniel's, though."

"Are you trying to set me up with her?" said Glorfindel, raising his eyebrows. "Because it wouldn't be the first time someone's tried to arrange a marriage for me, I can tell you that."

"Heck no!" I said hastily. "Actually, Dinniel's been trying to set me up with _you_for ages. I keep telling her that I don't want to get married, and even if I did, you're not my type."

"What do you think your type is?" Glorfindel asked. "If you did want to get married, that is."

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "I don't know. Probably someone who isn't from Gondolin, someone who knows something about the outside world. Maybe even someone who isn't rich."

"Ooh, scandalous," laughed Glorfindel. "Good luck, is all I have to say. The Princess of Gondolin is going to have a pretty hard time finding someone who's not from the city."

"I know, I know," I said. "It's unlikely. Which is exactly why I'll never get married."

"Well, I'm not one to criticize my betters," said Glorfindel. "You do whatever you think is best, Idril."

"Thank you, I will." I glanced over my shoulder. "Hey, they're playing a fast song. Do you want to dance?"

He grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

So we had our fast dance, and I had fun. More fun than I'd thought I would, anyway.

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"There, see, you enjoyed yourself after all," said Dinniel afterwards, when we were all sitting around in my room having a cup of tea. "What'd I tell you?"

"I know, I know, you're all-knowing. I bow down to you," I said, rolling my eyes. "At least I had someone to talk to."

"Yeah, I saw that," said Meleth. "What were you and Glorfindel discussing so intently, anyway?"

"Glorfindel mentioned how people are always trying to set him up with their cousins or sisters or whatever, and I said how Dinniel tries—sorry,_used to _try—to set me up with him even though he's not my type, and Glorfindel asked me what my type was."

"What _is _your type?" asked Dinniel.

I summed up everything I'd said to Glorfindel in ten words. "Someone who's the exact opposite of everyone in this city."

Meleth thought about that for a moment. "You mean an uneducated, messy-haired bum with no money and bad grammar?"

"Exactly."

"Good luck," said Dinniel, snorting. "I do not understand you, Idril. I love you and everything, but I don't understand you."

"Of course you don't," I said, tossing my hair. "I'm an enigma. Now get out of here, I need my beauty sleep."


	13. Hard Decisions, Harder Partings

_**Wow, more reviews. Thanks, people!**_

_**Oh, and Klose, in reply to your question about Fingolfin, would you believe that I completely forgot to write about his death! I'm an idiot. Sorry. **_

**Chapter 13: Hard Decisions, Harder Partings**

"**A chance to prove your worth is coming up, if you can survive the sixteen bullet wounds you receive tomorrow."**

**-Horoscope**

Occasionally, Dad did something that suggested that he was not just a stubborn, sexist snob. One of these times occurred a few years after Hurin and Huor went home.

It began with Thorondor, like many things do. He flew into our sitting room one night, sat down on the floor, and told us quite calmly that there was a war brewing.

"A war," said Dad.

"A war?" I said.

"A war!" said Thorondor.

"About what?" asked Maeglin.

"What are any of these modern wars about?" said Thorondor, shrugging. "Politics and jewels. I don't understand it, personally."

"_Why_ is there a war brewing, though?" said Dad. "What's happened recently that would result in a war?"

"Well," said Thorondor slowly. "You remember the whole scandal with King Thingol's daughter Luthien and that mortal boy she ran off with?"

"Obviously," I said. "That was pretty much the major happening of this century."

"Well, it seems that Maedhros son of Feanor has gotten it into his head that if a mortal and a girl can take on Morgoth, then he probably can too, and he's planning for a full-on attack sometime soon," said Thorondor. "Oh, and I believe that your brother Fingon is planning on assisting him, Turgon."

"Fingon?" said Dad. He looked worried for a minute. "Oh, dear."

"Should we help him?" asked Maeglin, looking eager. "Gondolin has an excellent army; we'd probably do a lot of good…"

"Hmm, I don't know," I said. "We've got a good army, yeah, but I don't approve of war as a rule. And it seems to kind of defy the whole never-leaving-the-city rule."

"I should probably help my brother," said Dad thoughtfully. "He's always helped me."

Personally, I could barely remember Uncle Fingon, so I was going to have to take Dad's word on that one. I did remember that he was sort of a goof-off and called me the most stubborn little firebrand he'd ever met (I always took that as a compliment).

"Well, it's your choice, but…" Maeglin and I said at the same time. Thorondor laughed (if you can call the noise he made laughing), but Dad just sat there, staring into space.

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"That would be kind of cool, if your dad went to war," commented Meleth on the subject. "Very dramatic."

"How about_stressful_?" I said. "I love Dad! I don't want him to go off to war and get killed!"

"Oh, come on, you're always saying how irritating he is," joked Dinniel. "And besides, if he got killed you could be queen! And then you could increase our meager salaries."

"Don't even joke about that, Dinniel," said Meleth. "It _would_ suck if King Turgon got killed."

"Plus, he hasn't decided which of us are going to inherit the throne, Maeglin or me," I added. "Maeglin's a dude, but I'm the king's only child. Therefore, _very_ tough decision."

"It shouldn't be," said Meleth loyally. "You'd obviously be the better ruler."

"Yeah, I mean, you're smarter, saner, _and _less creepy than Maeglin," said Dinniel. "And you have nicer hair."

"And of course nice hair is a must-have for anyone who wants to rule a kingdom," I teased.

Dinniel shrugged. "Well, isn't it?"

We all laughed for a while, until one of Dad's servants came in the room without knocking and told me that Dad needed to see me.

"Sheesh, kid," I said. "I hate to be a jerk, but could you maybe _knock _before you come barging in here? I only let my girlfriends come in my room unannounced."

The kid blushed. "Sorry, Princess. Didn't mean to disturb you."

"That's okay, honey," I said. "Did Dad tell you why he wanted to see me?"

"It's gotta be something important," said Dinniel. "Idril's dad only tells her things when he absolutely has to."

"He didn't really say," the boy said. "I think it's something about the war."

"Ooh, this'll be good," said Meleth. "Tell us everything, okay, Idril?"

"Will do," I promised. I stood up and ran downstairs, leaving the servant boy behind me looking somewhat confused.

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"Oh, Gods. You're going to war, aren't you," was what I said when I saw Dad's face.

"Yes, I am. How did you…" He trailed off and shook his head. "Anyway, yes, I'm going to war."

I sighed. "I knew you would. Well, I hope it goes well. And don't get killed. I'd rather not end up an orphan."

"Actually, that's not all that I wanted to talk to you about," said Dad.

"What _now_? More bad news?"

"Not bad, exactly. Idril, Maeglin's coming with me."

"Okay," I said slowly. "And that's a big deal because…?"

"I was going to hand control of the city to him while I was gone, but that's impossible now. And so, as the only member of the royal family staying in Gondolin, you'll be in charge of everything temporarily."

If Dad was expecting me to go all weak and womanly and burst into tears at the sudden dose of responsibility, he was wrong. Actually, I squealed with delight and hugged him.

"That is _so_great!" I cried. "I mean, not the you-going-to-war part. The me-ruling-the-city part."

"Do you think you'll be able to handle it?" asked Dad concernedly.

"Obviously, Dad. I'm not an idiot."

"Well, if you're sure," said Dad. "I thought you'd do a fine job. You're a sensible girl, just like your mother…" He trailed off. Mom was always a sore topic with Dad.

"Dad, don't worry so much. I'll take good care of things. You just concern yourself with kicking Morgoth's butt." I kissed him on the cheek, overjoyed and worried at the same time.

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So everything was sorted out and decided, and finally Dad, Maeglin, and most of the male population of Gondolin left for war. It was actually sort of depressing, since we knew a lot of people might not come back. Before they left, I had a brief talk with my own two soldiers in the throne room.

"Good luck, Dad," I said quietly.

"Good luck, Idril," replied Dad. "Keep an eye on those friends of yours, will you? Especially Dinniel."

I smiled. "Gotcha. Oh, and both of you, don't get killed, okay?"

"We'll make sure not to," said Dad. I wasn't sure, but I was fairly sure he was thinking _Die? And leave the city in the hands of a woman? Not likely!_

"I'll miss you, Idril," said Maeglin in that creepy way of his.

"Um…yeah, excellent," I said awkwardly. "Have fun. Fight hard and all that."

Dad hugged me. "I'll say hello to your uncle for you."

"You do that. Tell him I'm still a firebrand."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to hear that." Dad looked at the clock. "We'd better leave. Idril, if I don't come back, I want you to know that I love you and I always will, all right?"

"Right-o," I said, like Huor used to say. "See you around."

Dad and Maeglin left the room, and with much fanfare, the King of Gondolin left to assist his brother in battle. Me? I sat down in my room and wrote another letter to Aunt Aredhel.

_Dear Aunt Aredhel,_

_Dad just left to go fight in some war with Uncle Fingon. Maeglin went with him, so that means that, if only temporarily, I'M QUEEN OF GONDOLIN!_

_Freaky, huh? I always wanted to be in a position of authority, but now that I actually am I'm a bit nervous! At least Dad trusts me enough to let me run things here. He didn't _have _to make me regent. _

_Actually, I miss Dad a bit. I hope he doesn't get hurt. I don't really want anyone to get hurt, but I know someone has to, so I just hope it's not Dad. Or Maeglin (I don't miss him much at all, but as his cousin I'm obligated to say that. Besides, he's your son and I know you want the best for him)._

_I've had a couple more random dreams lately, but they haven't consisted of much—mostly I just see the city burning for a few seconds and then I wake up and fall asleep right away again. The cute guy with the blue eyes hasn't shown up in any of my dreams these days either. Whatever. I need to stop eating before bed._

_Hey, I just realized that since you and Mom are both dead, you probably see a lot of each other. Can you tell Mom that Dad still misses her a lot, and so do I? And can you tell her that the hair genes she gave me are causing me more problems than they're solving? Thanks. _

_Love you lots,_

_Idril_

That being done, the queen of Gondolin went and got some supper with her friends.


	14. Battle of the Century

"_**Wicked Smart" now has twelve reviews, which makes me very happy. Thank you all so much.**_

**Chapter 14: Battle of the Century**

"**I see nothing wrong with power as long as I am the fellow who has it"**

**-Norman Cousins**

A good long time passed, and nothing happened. I kept hoping every day that the army would return victorious (or at least _return_), but they didn't, and I was sick with worry. Well, I wasn't the only one, as I soon found out.

One night I woke up to the sound of sniffing. It took me a second to remember where I was, and when I did I lit a candle and looked around. Sitting by the window, crying, was Dinniel.

"Hey, Din," I said softly, sitting next to her. "Are you okay?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sitting by the window crying in the middle of the night. Yes, O perceptive one, I'm just _great_."

"Well, what's wrong?" I asked, ignoring the jab. Long ago I'd learned to never take Dinniel too seriously when she was sad/mad.

"I'm worried," she said. "Idril, I hate war. I hate the thought of people getting hurt. I just want everyone to come home!"

I put an arm around her shoulders. "I know how you feel. It's awful, both of our dads being gone. And your brother, too."

"No, you _don't_!" Dinniel snapped. "I love my dad, Idril. He always used to tell me that I was the best girl in the world and that he was proud of me no matter what. And my brother taught me half of what I know, and he's always been there for me. Who do you have in the army? A father who thinks you're useless because you're a girl and a cousin who thinks you're hot. And you claim to love them—at least, you claim to love your father—but I haven't seen you cry or even worry. Not that I blame you or anything, but you don't really love any of your relatives. You don't love _anyone_!"

"I love you and Meleth," I protested. "And I loved Aunt Aredhel when she was alive, and I'm fairly sure that I loved my mother. And I _do _love my father. I have to. He's my father."

"Exactly!" said Dinniel. "You love him because you have to. You love Meleth and me because you have to, too. We're your only friends in this world, so you have to love us even though you think we're stupid, frivolous bimbos. If you keep thinking that being clever makes you superior to everyone else, someday you're going to end up completely alone." She stood up and stomped off, leaving me staring out the window and very awake.

Was I incapable of love? Of course not. I just didn't want to fall in love, because it would mess up my life and end in heartbreak like almost every other love affair in my family. And I didn't think that Dinniel and Meleth were stupid, frivolous bimbos, or that I was better than everyone else…did I?

Maybe I _was_ stuck-up and loveless. I _had _always thought of myself as being smarter than my friends. But they never acted like they were that smart. How was I supposed to know?

But I was supposed to be perceptive. Maybe I was just so wrapped up in myself that I couldn't notice anything about anything else. And Dad…how was I supposed to know what he was really like? I'd always seen him as the stern, irritating king of Gondolin, because that's how I'd gotten used to him. Aunt Aredhel had once said that he was trying to protect me, and I didn't want protection, so I just figured he was trying to be a jerk, but perhaps he wasn't. Huh…maybe he was just trying to be a good father but didn't know what it took.

This was all so confusing that finally my brain gave up and I fell asleep.

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I awoke the next morning to Dinniel shaking my shoulder. "Idril! Idril, wake _up_!"

"What time is it?" I asked, opening my eyes and standing up.

"It's nine-thirty. Everyone else is up already."

"Crud. Look, Dinniel, I was thinking about what you said last night…"

She laughed. "Oh, please, darling, you didn't take that seriously, did you? I'm not responsible for what I say when I'm tired and worried. Sorry if it bothered you."

"A little," I admitted. "But what I was going to say was, you were right. I do act like I'm better than a lot of people, and I'm sorry. You and Meleth are the best friends I could ever have and I really do love you both."

"That's good to hear," said Dinniel brightly. "Now, let's get you dressed and downstairs. Hurry, hurry!"

"Why are we in such a hurry?"

"What, don't you know? Oh, right, you weren't awake. The king is home!"

"Finally!" I cried. "Thank the Gods. Is everyone alive?"

"Well, I doubt_everyone's _alive. People do tend to get killed in wars, you know."

"Okay, is everyone of importance to us alive?"

"Let's see," said Dinniel thoughtfully. "Your dad and cousin are alive, and my dad and brother are alive, and they're important. Glorfindel and Ecthelion are alive too, so that's good. Most of our other guy friends are alive too. So yeah, I guess everyone important's alive."

"Good," I said. "Give me five minutes."

Five minutes later, I was dressed and everything, and Dinniel and I went downstairs to greet Dad. He was on the couch in the sitting room looking depressed, with Maeglin standing nearby. I ran over and hugged him.

"Dad! I'm so glad you're home! Are you okay?"

Dad patted me on the shoulder. "Idril, my girl, I'm glad to see you. How did things go when I was gone?"

"I took care of things all right," I assured him. "But you're stalling. What happened? Who died?"

"A good many people," Dad sighed. "Idril, we lost."

I stared at him. "We lost?"

"Yes. And your uncle Fingon was killed."

"Oh _no_!"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"How?"

He shook his head. "It's not the sort of thing you tell your daughter."

"To heck with that, I want to know. Come on, Dad, you know I can handle it."

"Well," said Dad, "to sum up, a Balrog gave him a good blow to the head with an axe."

"Ick."

"I told you it wasn't the sort of thing you told your daughter. But that's not the only bad news, I'm afraid."

"Dad," I said. "We lost the battle. Uncle Fingon is dead, and, if I'm correct, you're now the king of the Noldor. What more bad news could you possibly give me?"

"What's so horrible about me being king?" asked Dad, frowning.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "Just tell me the other bad news."

"This will probably affect you more than it did Maeglin and me," said Dad. "Idril, your friends Hurin and Huor were most likely killed. They were giving us a hand towards the end of the battle, and things eventually got so bad that they told us to leave while we could and that they'd cover for us. I don't see how they could have gotten out of that alive."

I stared at the floor, blinking back tears. This is going to sound horrible, I know, but I was more upset about Hurin and Huor (possibly) dying than about Uncle Fingon's death. Sure, Uncle Fingon was family, but I'd never really known him that well. Hurin and Huor were like my little brothers, and it felt awful to think of them being dead.

"Oh, hey, didn't Huor say something to you before we left?" said Maeglin suddenly.

"In fact he did," said Dad. "You'll find this interesting, Idril. Before we left, Huor said something rather odd. He said, 'Even though I'm pretty much screwed and I'll probably never see any of you again, I can tell you right now that from you and from me a new star shall arise.'"

"Bloody mortal," muttered Maeglin. "What did he even mean by that, anyway?  
"Who knows?" said Dad. "Anyway, Idril, I believe they're preparing a bit of a homecoming feast for us. You'll join us, won't you?"

"What? Oh, yeah, I'll come. I just need a second to think."

Dad nodded, and he and Maeglin left the room. I stared at the rug for a while like it was the most interesting thing I'd ever seen, rubbing my necklace and wondering what on earth was going to happen to all of us.


	15. Some Sort of Peace

**Chapter 15: Some Sort of Peace**

"**If things seem too quiet, scream. Loudly. That ought to liven things up."**

**-Aredhel daughter of Fingolfin**

"Nothing but bad news these days," muttered Dad, shaking his head. He'd just had another one of his conversations with Thorondor, who, being an eagle, was able to bring us news of most of the important happenings in the outside world. I looked up from my book.

"Like what?" I asked.

"All sorts of things," said Dad glumly. "Hithlum's been conquered, Dor-Lomin's a wreck, the Sons of Feanors' realms are _completely_destroyed…"

"I thought you hated the Sons of Feanor," I said.

"Well, I'm certainly not fond of them," said Dad, "but it just goes to show what a shape this world is in. Even the most powerful of us aren't safe." He shook his head again and sighed.

"But you've always said that Gondolin is the most powerful city on the map," I pointed out. "And since we're so well-protected, what with no one knowing where we are and all that, how will any of those things affect us?"

"It never hurts to be concerned about the outside world, Idril," said Dad.

"Hmm, that's funny," I said coolly. "Because I seem to recall that you've been telling the entire population of Gondolin _not _to be concerned about the outside world, that they were perfectly safe here. Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you sort of contradicting yourself here?"

I expected Dad to say something extremely typical, like "I'm the king and you're not, so stop criticizing me," but he didn't. Instead, he laughed.

"Well said, Idril," he said. "I suppose I was being a bit of a hypocrite there. Let's just put it this way: Royal folks like you and I are the ones who really need to be concerned with the outside world. The common folk don't need to be troubled with such things."

"Um!" I said, shocked by the fact that my father had just talked to me like an equal. "Yeah, I guess I see your point there. But if danger is imminent then we'll have to tell the 'common folk' eventually."

"Of course we will," said Dad. "But danger's not imminent, now is it." He leaned back farther in his chair. "Idril, I have a bit of a dilemma. Normally I'd talk to Maeglin about this sort of thing, you understand, but I haven't seen hide or hair of him today and no one I've asked has either."

"Right," I said. I'd seen Maeglin earlier that day hanging out with Salgant-the-Suck-Up, but I wasn't telling Dad that, not if he was going to ask advice from me. "What's the dilemma?"

"I've been recently debating doing something—somewhat controversial. With all the troubles in Middle-Earth these days, it might be a good move."

"Tell me what it is, then. I can't agree or disagree with you until I know what you're planning."

"I believe that we should send messengers to Valinor and ask for the Valar's assistance. Now, we've done something like this before, as you remember, and it didn't work out, but that was before things got really bad and I think maybe we're more deserving of help now. What do you think?"

"That's a tough question," I said thoughtfully. "On one hand, it's dangerous, it'll probably cost a lot of money, and we have no proof that it'll do any good. On the other hand, like you've said, things are bad here, so it might be a good chance to take. I'd advise you to go with it."

"I'm glad you think so," said Dad, smiling. He stood up. "I'll go take care of everything." He left the room, and I went back to my book.

I knew that Dad's sudden respect for my intelligence wouldn't last for long. But who said I couldn't enjoy it while it did last?

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A week later I was walking around downtown, not paying attention to where I was going. Rather, I was thinking about what Dad had said about the world was like these days, and wondering how it was all going to turn out. We'd won most of our battles, but then there was the Nirnaeth Arnoediad and the destruction of most of the Noldorin territories, and the whole curse on our people was only going to result in more nastiness as time went by. And that wasn't even _including_ all the weird dreams I'd been having about the city being on fire, which had been occurring even more often since Dad had told me what Huor said to him during the battle…

"Whoa!"

This, I reflected as I stumbled and half-fell, was the problem of not watching where you were going. You tended to crash into people.

When I got back up I pushed my hair out of my eyes to see who I'd run into. It was a skinny, shortish guy with white-blonde hair and pale grey eyes—Voronwe Aranwion. I sighed with relief. Voronwe had never tried to flirt with me, mostly because I happened to know that he was in love with some girl named Iavas who'd sort of run off a few years ago (there was some big drama surrounding this which I'm not going to go into now). The point is, Voronwe was a good kid and I liked him.

"Hey, Idril," he said. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. "Just a little stressed out. I've had a lot of things going on lately."

"I know what you're talking about," said Voronwe sympathetically. "Like with the war, and everything? My old man is freaking out about that. He keeps talking about how the world we live in is disintegrating."

Well, well, Dad. I guess the common folk know more than we thought they did.

"Where are you off to?" I asked.

"Actually, I was going uptown to see your dad. Apparently he wants to see me about something."

"Huh," I said. "I wonder what that could be." Normally Dad didn't associate with middle-class types like Voronwe. Unless… "Oh, wait, I think I might know what's going on."

"Really?" asked Voronwe. "Is it anything bad?"

"Not exactly," I said. "But Dad's looking for people to sail to Valinor and talk the Valar into helping us, and since your mom's Telerin you're probably a good candidate."

Voronwe looked delighted. "Seriously? That'd be extremely cool. Of course, my old man probably wouldn't like it." The whole deal between Voronwe and his old man was another drama—Aranwe hardly ever let his son do anything.

"Well, if the king makes you go, your old man won't have much of a say in the matter," I said. "Anyway, good luck and everything. If that's even what you're being summoned for."

"Well, what else could it be?" he said. "And if it is, I'll end up going. It feels—meant."

I nodded, bid him farewell, and kept walking. Something rather strange was going on in this city, and I had no idea what it was. And you want to know what the weirdest thing was? As I walked down the street, the same words kept repeating in my head, over and over.

_It's coming._

_It's coming._

_It's coming._


	16. Blame the Messenger

_**Merry Christmas, everyone who celebrates it! Finally, the chapter we've all been waiting for (especially me)—Tuor comes to Gondolin! I hope this goes well…**_

**Chapter 16: Blame the Messenger**

"**I went along, not fixing up any particular plan, but just trusting to Providence to put the right words in my mouth."**

**-Mark Twain**

Life is weird, in case you haven't noticed that already. You can think one thing for ages, and then something happens that completely changes it. I say this only because more weird things seem to happen to me than most other people I know. Probably because I'm a Noldorin princess, and I can read people's minds, and stuff like that.

So yes, as you probably know, Voronwe and a bunch of other guys did leave to go to Valinor, and then we didn't hear anything of them for a long while. At first this wasn't a huge deal, because sailing is a tricky business (especially if you're forbidden by the Valar from going where you're trying to go) but eventually we began to wonder if something nasty had happened to them. And, since most of the residents of Gondolin were natural pessimists, eventually it was decided that all the messengers were dead and that Dad had screwed up big-time. At least he hadn't told anyone that I helped make the decision, so that I wouldn't get blamed. People didn't trust me enough already.

Moving right along…

On November 18th, twenty-three years after the Nirnaeth Arnoediad, I woke up and decided to wear the dark blue dress that I'd refused to wear to that party. This may seem like no big deal, but for me, it was quite significant. I hardly ever wore clothes that my friends called "sexy," since I got enough unwelcome attention as it was, and my dark blue dress definitely fell into the attention-getting category. It was sparkly and sleeveless, with a drape-y neckline that showed a lot more skin than my clothes usually did.

Why I wore that dress that day I couldn't have told you. I could now, of course, but I'm not going to just yet.

When Meleth saw me, she raised her eyebrows. "Wow. You're wearing _that_?"

"Yeah," I said. "Is there something wrong with it?"

"No, you look great!" said Meleth. "It's just that…you _never_ wear that dress. What's the occasion?"

"No occasion," I replied, shrugging. "I just felt like it."

"Well, you look awesome," said Dinniel decidedly, entering the room. "You need to wear cool clothes more often, Idril. Seriously, you usually dress like my mother."

"Dinniel, your mother's one of the most stylish ladies in Gondolin," Meleth pointed out. "Usually, Idril dresses like _my _mother."

"Well, now I've dressed like both your mothers," I said brightly. "You should be very proud. Now, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know," said Dinniel mournfully. "No one's having any parties, and it's snowing like crazy outside, so we can't go out. Nothing ever happens these days!"

"Something will," I assured her. "I can feel it."

"I suppose that for now we'd better just eat breakfast and play cards all morning," said Meleth. Dinniel and I agreed with her, and I sent for some breakfast.

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Later that day, someone knocked on my door. Rather loudly.

"Come in," I called.

The boy who'd come in my room that one time without knocking to inform me that Dad wanted to talk to me about temporarily ruling Gondolin entered tentatively. "Ma'am, your father wants to see you."

"At least you remembered to knock this time," I remarked. "All right, what does Dad want now? First it was Aunt Aredhel, then the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. Probably someone's drained the ocean now."

"I don't know what this is about," said the boy, "but I do know it's important. The king was acting almost frightened."

"Her dad?_Frightened_? Oh, man, I totally have to see this," said Dinniel. She grabbed Meleth's and my hands and half-pulled us out of the room.

Admittedly, I was curious too. What was so important that _Dad_ would be scared about it? All I knew about that he was scared of was Gondolin getting destroyed, and the city didn't look at all destroyed to me. So what was going on?

There was a bit of a crowd gathered in the throne room when we got there—apparently they were also curious to see what was going on that would freak out King Turgon. Dinniel and Meleth went off and stood modestly to one side, and I went over to my usual seat next to Dad's throne. Maeglin was standing on the other side of the throne, looking rather pissed off. I leaned over to Dad.

"Okay, so what exactly is going on here?" I whispered. "And tell me everything, not just a dumbed-down version."

"Earlier today, a young mortal boy showed up in the city claiming to be a messenger from Ulmo—the one who's supposed to warn us when peril is coming," Dad replied. "He's wearing the armor from Vinyamar, and he was led here by one of our own, so you can see why there'd be a bit of a fuss."

That I could. The arrival of Ulmo's messenger meant that the Gondolin was in danger, which, as I've said, was the one thing that Dad was scared of.

"Do you know what his name is?" I asked.

"Yes, I do," said Dad. "His name is Tuor son of Huor."

"Son of _who_?"

The doors flew open, and three people entered.

One of them was Voronwe, who obviously hadn't died after all (though he looked like a total mess). One of them was Ecthelion, Glorfindel's friend and the Lord of the House of the Fountain (another one of those rich bachelor types who basically lived to get drunk and gamble). And the third one, obviously, was Tuor son of Huor, at the sight of whom I had to suppress a gasp.

Why? Well, for several reasons. First of all, it was immediately that he _was_ my old buddy Huor's son—he looked almost like him, except about ten years older. Second of all, he was wearing the armor that Ulmo had made us leave in Vinyamar (an act that I hadn't really understood at the time) and it fit him perfectly. Third, well, to be perfectly blunt, he was _hot_. Extremely hot. He was tall and muscular, with messy, dark gold hair that reached his shoulders and slightly tanned skin. And—this was the slightly freaky part—he had deep, brilliant turquoise eyes, _exactly like the guy in my dream_.

"Your Majesty," said Ecthelion, bowing. "This is Tuor son of Huor, who claims to be Ulmo's messenger. Oh, and you all know Voronwe, who was the one who showed him the way here."

Voronwe bowed. Tuor didn't do anything, since he appeared to be kind of scared. Hey, you couldn't blame the poor guy…Gondolin is a rather intimidating place.

"So," said Dad to Tuor. "Tuor son of Huor."

Tuor stepped forward nervously. "Yo. That's my name."

"What a _peasant_," muttered Maeglin, so quietly that only I could hear him. It was mean of him to say so, of course, but I knew what he meant. Only lower-class people used words like "yo."

"And you claim to be Ulmo's messenger," Dad continued.

"I don't claim, dude…I mean, Your Majesty," said Tuor. "I _am_ Ulmo's messenger. You think I'd be wearing this armor stuff if I wasn't?"

"He's got a point," I commented. Dad frowned at me and turned back to Tuor.

"Well, then, what's your message?" he said.

"Ulmo Lord of Waters sends this message to you, King of Gondolin," said Tuor, standing up a lot straighter and losing his poor-kid way of talking. "Your city is in great danger. Its destruction is coming fast, and the wise thing to do for both you and your people would be to leave as soon as possible and go down Sirion to the sea." He took a deep breath and went on. "So yeah, you might want to go with that, or you're all pretty much royally screwed."

"Did Ulmo tell you to say that last part?" I couldn't help asking.

"Nah, I added that myself," said Tuor, looking surprised that I was talking to him. "Far as I know Ulmo doesn't say stuff like 'royally screwed.'"

"Thank you for your message, Tuor," said Dad. "I'll talk it over with the city council. As for yourself, you are welcome to stay in Gondolin and enjoy it while it lasts."

"Sweet," said Tuor, sounding a lot like his father. "What's the catch?"

"What do you mean,_what's the catch_?" asked Maeglin rudely. "The king has given you a generous offer, mortal. Take it or leave it."

"Fine, then, I'll take it," said Tuor. "When's supper?"

And so Tuor came to Gondolin.

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After the crowd in the throne room dispersed ten minutes later, I got up from my chair and ran out of the room, hoping to find Tuor. I didn't know why, but I felt that I really had to have a conversation with him.

I found him in the hallway, looking at a tapestry of the Two Trees that was hung on what we called the palace's Graffiti Wall. Everyone who lived or worked or visited there carved or wrote something on the wall, so it was covered with things like_ the king's an idiot _and _Dinniel is hot_ and _Maglor son of Feanor ROCKS_. The Graffiti Wall, I have to admit, was my favorite part of Gondolin. You could learn more about the city from that slab of stone than from a dozen history books.

"Enjoying the wall?" I said to Tuor.

He spun around quickly, looking alarmed, but relaxed when he saw me. "Yo. Yeah, it's pretty cool. Who's Dinniel?"

"One of my ladies-in-waiting," I said. "She's a total flirt. I'm Idril, by the way. The king's daughter." I held out one hand. He nodded and shook it, sending shivers up my spine (I know, that sounds _so_dumb. But it's true!)

"I'm Tuor, which y'all probably already know," he said, being friendly and not at all polite. "That's a cool dress."

"I knew I'd worn it for a reason," I said, and instantly regretted it. Seriously, who said things like that? "So you're Huor's son?"

"That's what they told me," said Tuor, shrugging. "I never knew the guy. Never knew my mom, either. Dad died before I was born and Mom ran off when I was, like, one."

"That's said," I said sympathetically. "My mom died when I was six. We were crossing the Helcaraxe and she accidentally stepped on a place where there was a bunch of water and the ice was really thin, and she fell through and drowned. She was carrying me at the time and I fell through too, but I got saved. It explains why I'm so icy."

"Which I guess explains this here," said Tuor, indicating one of my favorite pieces of graffiti, which said _Idril got half-frozen on the Helcaraxe and never quite thawed out. _

I laughed. "Yeah, I have no idea who wrote that. Probably someone who I wouldn't go out with. So who raised you, if your parents died?"

"My mom's friend Annael and his wife Loswen. They were Grey-Elves who lived by Androth. I called them Aunt Loswen and Uncle Annael" He looked sad for a moment. "I sorta miss them. They were really good to me and my foster-sister Laera, even though they didn't have any money or a decent house."

"Yeah, I would miss them too," I said. "All my dad ever did for me was complain that I wasn't ladylike enough."

"I believe it," laughed Tuor. "Look, I don't want to sound like a jerk here, but your dad seems like kind of an old fogey."

"You're probably the first person in Gondolin to ever dare to say that," I said. "If you were talking to anyone other than me, you'd be in the dungeons right now."

"But I'm safe talking to you?"

"Of course you are," I said, smiling sweetly. "_I_ agree with you."

"That's cool," said Tuor. "So I guess y'all are my friend, then."

"Yes," I said. "I am."

_**I know you're all wondering: "Why did she have Tuor talk like THAT?" Look, I've got to say it, people—I don't know. It just seemed to suit his character.**_

_**See ya soon! **__**♥**_


	17. Tuor's Story

_**Wow, my Chapter 16 was very well-received. Thank you all so much!**_

**Chapter 17: Tuor's Story**

"**Guys like us…are the loneliest guys in the world. They got no family. They don't belong no place."**

**-John Steinbeck**

I didn't see Tuor again until later that evening, when he, Dad, Maeglin, and I all sat down for a "small family dinner." That's what Dad called it, at least, and you should have seen the look on Maeglin's face when Dad basically said that Tuor was a member of our family even though we'd only known him for about three hours. It didn't bother me at all, though. I felt like I'd known Tuor for ages.

Okay, you remember how when Huor and his brother came I remarked on how Huor ate like a starving wolf? Well, his son ate like a starving dragon. No kidding. I should know—I was sitting next to him.

"When was the last time you had a good meal?" I asked him.

Tuor stopped eating for a moment and glanced around the table. "By my standards? When I was sixteen. By this city's standards?" He shook his head. "Never."

Maeglin snorted, and Tuor raised an eyebrow at him.

"What, you don't believe me? Trust me, rich boy, that ain't _nothing_ compared to some of the stuff I've been through."

"So how exactly did you come across the armor we'd left at Vinyamar, anyway?" said Dad, probably just to keep Tuor and Maeglin from getting into a fight at the dinner table.

"Now that's an interesting story, there," said Tuor, leaning back in his chair. "So yeah, like I told Idril, my dad died before I was born and my mom ran off and probably got killed in the wilderness not long _after _I was born, so I got raised by some pretty cool Elves who lived around Lake Androth. Life there was pretty hard, but whatever, we were all pretty much used to it.

"Anyway, right around my sixteenth birthday, Uncle Annael—my foster-father—tells me that we're getting the heck away from Androth and going down south to the ocean, 'cause living up north was getting way too dangerous. I'm like, 'Dude, that's not safe, someone's gonna notice us,' but we went anyway, and so then of course we get attacked on the road by a bunch of Easterlings. My foster-family got split up, and I got captured and ended up a slave to Lorgan—he was the head Easterling guy."

"That must have been hard," I said, and then mentally berated myself for saying something so _obvious_. Why did I always act like such an idiot when I was around Tuor?

"You got that right, sister," said Tuor. "It sucked, and hanging around the Easterlings pretty much wrecked my grammar—my foster-parents didn't teach me to talk like _this_, you can bet your boots. But hey, at least I didn't starve. And at least Lorgan's wife thought I was hot, so I got cut some slack. Eventually, though, I got fed up with the whole deal, and after a couple years (I think it was about three, but I lost track after a while) I escaped. Then I spent a couple more years being an outlaw in the woods, killing Easterlings and seeing how high they'd raise the price on my head." He smiled in a self-satisfied way. "I must be worth a fortune by now.

"I spent a few years doing that, and then the Easterlings killed my dog—who I'd stolen from them, but hey, they enslaved me for three years, I think it was a fair trade—and I decided that I was gonna go with my gut and head west. So west I went, and I eventually wound up on this old ruin of a city, and so I figured I'd just hang out there for awhile 'til I knew what I was supposed to do. Weirdly enough, while I was hanging out there I found this funky armor stuff, and it fit good and all, so I decided what the heck, no one else is going to use this so I may as well take it. I guess maybe that's kind of important."

"Kind of," said Dad, looking amused.

"Yeah, I guess I didn't really know what I was getting myself into," continued Tuor. "But after I took the armor, I was hanging out by the water when this really tall guy with a really long beard just randomly appears and starts yelling at me."

"Ulmo?" I said.

"That's what he told me. But at first he didn't tell me who he was, and I was freaked."

"What did you do?" asked Maeglin, who seemed interested in spite of himself.

Tuor grinned. "I screamed like a girl and threw myself down on the sand. What would _you_ have done?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it.

"So yeah, there I was, scared out of my skin, and Ulmo just shakes his head and says 'Get up, thou ridiculous boy, and let me have a look at thee. Manwe and Varda may like that groveling stuff but I don't.'

"Up I get, and he looks me over real careful and says 'Hmm, thou looks like thy father. A good lad, that Huor was. Too bad about the Nirnaeth Arnoediad.'

"I'm like, 'Dude. Are you just going to stand around talking like a weirdo or are you gonna tell me _who the Mandos you are and why you're talking to me_?'

"So he tells me in his fancy-pants way that he's Ulmo Lord of Waters and that he's talking to me because he's chosen me for a very important quest, and that I should have gotten there months ago and that my journey's going to be a _lot _harder now, blah blah blah. And when I ask him what the heck this quest is, he tells me that I have to go to Gondolin and tell y'all that your city's doomed and that you need to leave right away, and that also there's a good chance that I'll get killed on the way because I'm going against the Doom of the Noldor and there's consequences for that.

"I was like, 'What's the catch? There's been a good chance that I'll get killed since the day I was born.'"

This time I laughed so hard that wine almost came out of my nose. Undignified, I know, but dignity is boring.

"And then Ulmo disappears back to wherever he came from and I go back and get some sleep, and then in the morning I meet Voronwe, who tells me that he was on some expedition to Valinor but his ship got destroyed, and we decide that he should lead me to Gondolin and then I'll do the work of getting you people to let me in. Which worked out pretty well, I gotta say." His story apparently being done, Tuor returned to eating like a starving dragon.

"Is that it?" said Dad.

"Yep," said Tuor.

"So you were sixteen when you got enslaved, and you worked for the Easterlings for about three years and then you were an outlaw for a little longer than that," I said. "How old does that make you now?"

"Around twenty-three, I think," said Tuor thoughtfully. "Like I said, you kind of lose track of time when you have to do the same thing over and over for a few years."

"That's ten years older than your father was when he came here," I informed him.

He sat up straight and stared at me. "My _father _was here?"

"Yes, when he was thirteen," I said, somewhat distracted from what I was talking about by how handsome Tuor looked up close. "He stayed here for a whole year, he and his brother. Didn't you know that? Oh, wait, you couldn't have. Sorry."

"How did he wind up here?" asked Tuor.

"He and his brother Hurin were fighting in some battle, and they got lost and the eagles brought them here," I explained. "Eventually they went back home to help their families."

"Huh," said Tuor. "Well, I guess that explains it."

"Explains what?" said Maeglin.

"When I came here, something about this place seemed sorta familiar. But I guess if my dad was here, being familiar with Gondolin runs in my blood." He sighed. "Now I really wish I'd known my old man."

I put a hand on his shoulder. "Huor was a great kid. You remind me of him a lot."

"Do I now," said Tuor, faking skepticism. "How so?"

"Well, you've both got bad grammar and messy hair, and you both eat like starving carnivorous animals," I listed. "And you've probably got other things in common too."

Tuor threw back his head and roared with laughter—the loudest, most unrestrained laughter I'd ever heard. I loved it.


	18. Poor Idril

_**Cool, more reviews! This is the chapter where Idril finally realizes that she isn't made of stone, and isn't very happy about it.**_

**Chapter 18: Poor Idril**

"**Of course I'm a hopeless romantic. It's how I make money."**

**-Daeron of Doriath**

_Dear Aunt Aredhel,_

_It's been a while since I've written to you. Sorry about that, but then again, it's not like you'll mind or anything. You're dead, after all._

_Dad came back from war, and he and Maeglin were both fine, but my old friend Huor got killed and we don't know what happened to Hurin. Your brother Fingon died too, which you probably know since you're both in Mandos by now. Say hi to him for me. Oh, and apparently half of Middle-Earth has been conquered. So yeah, things aren't looking too good around here._

_Anyway, something MUCH more important than any of that has happened. It seems that a few years after Huor left Gondolin, he got married to some girl named Rian (I like that name, Rian. It sounds cool), and then a while after Huor got killed in battle Rian had a son, who they named Tuor. Long story, but the upshot of it all is, Tuor was sent to Gondolin by Ulmo to tell us that we're all royally screwed (his words, not mine) if we don't get out of Gondolin and go south SOON. I think he's telling the truth, but Dad seems skeptical, and Maeglin of course hates him just based on the fact that he's a mortal and uses words like "yo."_

_Personally, I really like Tuor. He's nice to me, and not in a "wow-you're-so-totally-beautiful" suck-up way—he's, like,_genuine _nice. Now, Aunt Aredhel, you know better than anyone that it's _extremely _rare that a guy is nice to me because he thinks I'm a cool person and not because I have nice hair and I'm a princess. Plus— this is going to sound really dumb but it's true__—Tuor is hot. Really hot. He has dark turquoise eyes like the guy from my dream, and messy blonde hair, and a really cool laugh. And I know that I've vowed to never fall in love or get married, but I'm still allowed to notice that the boy's good-looking, aren't I?_

_I have to go now. I'll write again soon to tell you what Dad decides to do about Ulmo's message._

_All my love,_

_Idril_

At breakfast the next morning, Tuor showed up at the table ten minutes late and looking a good deal less scruffy than he'd looked the previous evening. His hair was neatly brushed (well, sort of), he was wearing clothes that weren't covered in stains, and, well, he looked good. Really good.

"'Sup, y'all," he said brightly. "Phew. Sorry about being late, but seriously, I ain't had that good of a sleep in _ages_."

"That's all right, Tuor," said Dad. "We're not strict about punctuality here."

Maeglin rolled his eyes. For once in my life I agreed with him.

"_Not strict about punctuality_?" I said incredulously. "Dad, you get furious when I'm two minutes late!"

"Dude, you givin' me special treatment?" Tuor asked Dad, once again forgetting that Dad was the king and probably should have been called Your Majesty or something. "Sweet. That doesn't happen too often."

"Didn't that Easterling lady give you special treatment because she thought you were…_hot_?" said Maeglin, rather snootily.

"Well, yeah, but that treatment wasn't exactly the kind I was looking for, if ya know what I mean," replied Tuor. "You ever had a fat, married old dame hitting on you?"

"No, I can't say that I have."

"Okay, then, there ya go," said Tuor. "It's not much fun." He glanced around the table. "Seriously, though, you guys got some really fancy food around here. I ain't even heard of half of this stuff."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Well, like this, for example." He gestured to a platter of scrambled eggs. "What the heck _is _that stuff?"

I looked at him, surprised. "You've never had scrambled eggs before?"

"Nah. Family never had chickens. One of the guys who lived near us had some sheep, though. Man, those are some dumb animals."

"Hmm," I said. "I don't have much experience with sheep."

"Well, they're not exactly the greatest animal ever created. They smell weird, they make a ton of noise, and they don't understand boundaries at _all_."

That made me laugh. Something about the way Tuor said things was just so _funny_. Meanwhile, Maeglin once again rolled his eyes at how uncivilized we were and Dad smiled to himself.  
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Later that day I ran into Tuor again, this time in the courtyard. He was leaning against a tree, eating a slice of meat pie and finger-combing his hair, which had gotten considerably messier since that morning. I smiled and walked over to him.

"Why is it that whenever I see you these days, you're eating?" I asked him."

Tuor looked up and shrugged. "Making up for lost time, I guess. How're you doing?"

"I'm all right. You?"

"Better than usual. Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, shoot."

"What's up with your cousin?"

"Why do you ask?" I said innocently, though I had known that it was only a matter of time before Tuor noticed how much of a jerk Maeglin was to him.

"Right after breakfast, he told me straight off that I had better keep my filthy mortal hands offa you and that you were way out of my league. Seemed kind of weird to me."

"Huh?" I said, confused. That was a little excessive, even for Maeglin. "Why on earth would he say something like that?"

"I don't know," said Tuor. "I guess he musta thought I was hitting on you or something."

"Oh, _great_," I groaned. "We're getting into this _already_. Look, Tuor, I'll be straightforward with you—Maeglin is in love with me. I don't know why; he comes from a very messed-up family, so maybe that's part of it. Thing is, he can't stand it when I'm friendly to another guy."

Tuor gave me a shocked look. "Okay, that's just weird."

"You said it," I agreed. "At least I can always turn him down by saying I've decided to never get married. After what happened to his mom—my Aunt Aredhel—I just don't want to get involved in any of that."

"What happened to your aunt?"

"She got killed by her husband. Long story, I'll tell it to you sometime."

"Well, then I guess you've got a pretty good reason there. Don't worry; I'll make sure to never hit on you."

"Thanks." I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay? You seem kind of…tense."

"Yeah, I'm okay," he said. "Look, Idril, I gotta tell you, I'm not really used to girls. Especially not cool rich girls who treat me like an equal instead of an animal."

"Really?" I said, smiling. "Well, I'm not used to poor mortal boys who treat me like an intelligent person and not a statue."

He smiled back at me, and in that moment I could feel myself getting a bit less icy.

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I ran to my room and sat down on my bed, taking deep breaths. What was _wrong _with me? Why did I always feel so weird when Tuor was around? I _never_acted that way around guys. Normally I was so calm and sensible, but when I was with Tuor I felt—completely unlike myself.

Oh, Valar. Was I falling in love with him?

"No!" I whispered furiously to myself. "I can't be in love! Love _sucks_! It's illogical and dangerous and stupid, and just because Tuor's cool and funny and good-looking and treats me better than any guy's ever treated me before…oh, crap, I am totally sunk."

So there I was, realizing that not only had I broken my vow to never fall in love but that I'd also fallen in love with a guy who only thought of me as a friend. Oh, and also, we were probably all doomed, because no way would Dad go along with Ulmo's orders.

Add that to the whole deal with Maeglin and all the other things going on outside of Gondolin, and I was one messed-up girl.


	19. To Leave or Not To Leave

**Chapter 19: To Leave or Not To Leave**

"**All kings is mostly rapscallions."**

**-Mark Twain**

"She's been acting_ so _weird lately."

"I know! Ever since that cute mortal boy came here she's seemed way more stressed than usual."

"And that's saying something, because she's, like, _way _stressed on a daily basis."

"I think her problem is that she thinks too much."

"Yeah. I totally don't understand people like that."

I opened the door to my room and frowned at Dinniel and Meleth, who were sitting on my bed talking. "Are you guys talking about me?"

"No, of course not!" Dinniel lied quickly. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, right. I_ heard _you, you know." I sat down next to them. "Don't worry, I'm not mad."

"But seriously, why_ have _you been so stressed lately?" asked Meleth. "Aside from the usual, I mean."

"Guess," I said dryly. "I'm sure you can figure it out."

Dinniel and Meleth looked at each other for a moment, and their eyes widened as if one cue. "Oh. My. Gosh," said Dinniel. "You like Tuor, don't you."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do!" Dinniel squealed with excitement and bounced up and down on the bed. "You totally like him!"

"No, I _don't_," I said. "I am madly, hopelessly in love with Tuor. There _is_ a difference, you know."

There was a brief silence.

"Good Gods," said Meleth in an awed-sounding voice. "Idril has feelings like the rest of us. I told you so, Dinniel."

"Yes, you did, and you were right," said Dinniel. "Oh, this is _great_! You guys would be the cutest couple!"

"Well, that's very encouraging, Dinniel, but it's not going to happen," I said sadly. "Tuor's one of my best friends. He'll never fall in love with me."

"Idril, _everyone's_in love with you," said Meleth. "If he doesn't love you now, then it's only a matter of time. Just go with the flow."

"She's right, you know," said Dinniel. "There are only, like, three unmarried guys in Gondolin who don't have a crush on you. And only about ten _married _ones."

"I wish I could share your optimism," I replied, ignoring the joke, "but I'm not very lucky as far as romance goes. I love the guy I can't have and I don't want all the ones I can have. And there's nothing any of us can do about it."

Meleth sighed and put a hand on my shoulder.

"You're right, Idril, _we_ can't do anything about it," she said. "But you can. You're the only one who can change your life, and you know that perfectly well."

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Later that day I stomped into Dad's council room uninvited, and boy, was I ticked off. Exactly who did my dratted father think he was, figuring out what to do about Tuor's message without my help? I may have been a girl but I was smart enough to be of use, dang it!

Besides, I was in love with Tuor, so I had to be a part of anything involving him.

"Idril!" said Dad, sounding surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Doing what the king's heir is expected to do," I said sharply, pulling up a chair and sitting down. "Having a say in this city's affairs."

"Your Majesty, I must protest," said Salgant from his chair towards the other end of the table. "This is not a woman's place."

"Even a woman who's smarter, more popular, and way more attractive than you?" said Ecthelion. "Shut up, Salgant. Idril's as welcome here as any of us."

There was some muttering among the assembled nobles, but I shot them my best don't-mess-with-me look and it ceased.

"All right, all right, everyone, let's just get on with this," said Dad, sounding tired. "We're gathered here tonight to figure out what to do about the message from Ulmo brought to us by Tuor son of Huor. The gist of this message was that our city is in great danger and that we should all leave as soon as possible."

"Why should we listen to an uneducated mortal who can't even speak properly?" asked Maeglin haughtily. "We don't even know if he's telling the truth."

"This isn't about Tuor's grammar," I countered. "And besides, why would he lie? What on earth would he have to gain?"

"He could be a spy from Morgoth," said Duilin, Lord of the House of the Swallow. "We all know how badly the Dark Lord wants to know the location of our city."

"Yeah freaking _right_!" I said angrily. Maeglin gave Dad a look, as if to say _See? This is what happens when we let an emotional girl sit in on our council_. I rolled my eyes. "What I mean is, if Tuor's a spy, why did the armor we left at Vinyamar fit him perfectly?"

"That armor could have fit a lot of people," argued Duilin.

"Not really," I said, which was true. Tuor was a powerfully built guy; that armor wouldn't have fit a lot of guys that I knew. "And anyway, didn't Ulmo say that when the city was in peril someone would come to warn us?"

There was more muttering, but this time it was hey-this-girl's-got-a-point muttering. I shot Maeglin a look.

"Well, yeah, but how do we know that Ulmo's not just messing with us?" asked Rog, Lord of the House of the Hammer. "Or maybe he's just mistaken. Anyway, why would we abandon the city it took us _years _to build, and even more years to turn into one of the last hopes of the Noldor? Screw Ulmo, I say. If trouble's coming, we'll fight it. But run off and ditch the greatest city in the world like a bunch of jerks? No way."

"You're the man, Rog!" yelled someone.

_Oh, crap_, I thought, rubbing my necklace nervously. _My female logic has just been upstaged by male pride._

"That is exactly what I was telling my uncle earlier," said Maeglin smugly. "We're perfectly capable of defending ourselves against whatever trouble comes our way, and anyway, the Valar aren't correct about everything. For Ulmo to tell us to leave is just ridiculous."

Dad looked from Maeglin to me, and then at everyone else. "That seems to me a very rational argument. I did spend many years making Gondolin a world power, and I have no desire to abandon what I've worked so hard on." He stood up. "My decision is made. We stay."

"_What_?" I exclaimed, but I was drowned out by the other people's cheers. I glanced at Glorfindel, whose expression indicated that he was thinking much the same thing as I was.

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"You want to tell me what the Mandos _that _was?" I snapped at Dad once everyone had left and we were alone in the council room.

"I went with what I believed what was right for Gondolin, Idril," said Dad in a voice that indicated that his word was law and could not be disputed. Well, I was going to dispute it whether he liked it or not.

"Yeah, you went with what you thought was right for the _city_," I said bitterly. "But not what's right for its people. Dad, when are you going to admit that _material things don't last_? This city is just another thing. It's not going to last forever no matter what we do. The people who live here, Dad, that's what's important. We could all be in grave danger if we stay here. Did you _once _pause to consider that?"

"Idril, you didn't have to this council," Dad said evenly. "My councilors knew from the start what I was going to decide, and I knew it would only make you upset. I understand that you've become somewhat fond of that buy Tuor, so of course you'd support what he said."

"You think that I just want to do what Ulmo said because I'm friends with Tuor?" I cried. "Why on earth would you think that? I'm a logical person, Dad. I don't go around making decisions based on whether or not my friends agree with me."

Dad didn't say anything—he just turned to leave. I ran in front of him, blocking his way.

"Do you think I don't know what you think of me?" I hissed. "You wanted a son. Right from the very start, you were disappointed because I was a girl and I couldn't inherit anything. Don't try to deny it, Dad—I know what you're thinking. I _always _know what you're thinking. When Mom died and you knew you had no chance at ever having a son, you decided that you would just do your best to turn me into the perfect ladylike princess, a girl who would sit around looking pretty and eventually marry some rich guy and give you a grandson to take over your position when you got sick of it. It just _kills _you that I'm not like that, doesn't it. Doesn't it!"

Once again, Dad said nothing. He just stared at me, looking kind of shocked.

That was good. I wasn't finished yet.

"So you go ahead and stay in Gondolin," I said. "You go ahead and doom us all. At least when I die I can say that I tried to save us, while you just let your pride get in the way of everything. At least I'll be able to say that I fulfilled my promise to Aunt Aredhel."

Finally my father spoke. One word. "Idril…"

"Don't talk to me," I snapped, and stomped out into the hallway. Another typical conversation with my father.


	20. Iavas

**Chapter 20: Iavas**

"**A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."**

**-Bobbi Brown**

I needed a bath and sleep before I could talk to anyone properly. But as fate would have it, the one person I _didn't _want to meet while in this state was the very person I ran into on my way down the hall.

"Yo, Idril," said Tuor, giving me a sweet, friendly smile. "You okay?"

"No, I'm not," I said. "I'm seriously pissed, actually."

"Why come?"

"My stupid dad just decided that Ulmo's message was a load of hooey and said that we were staying in Gondolin, even after I gave him several good reasons to stay. So now, as you said, we're all royally screwed."

"_Fudge_!" said Tuor. Except he actually said a different word that started with_f_. And he said it pretty loud, too.

"Sorry about that," he apologized when he was done swearing. "I have kind of a profanity problem. Easterling influence."

"That's okay," I said. "I just wish I could get my feelings out that easily. I can't swear, and I can't scream, and I can't cry, so I'm pretty much stuck."

"Wait," said Tuor, frowning. "What do you mean, you can't cry? Everyone cries. Heck, even I cry, and I'm the least sissy guy you'll ever meet."

I turned away and folded my arms. "I hardly ever cry. I just don't let myself."

Tuor grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, so I was facing him again. "Why are you so afraid of showing weakness?"

"I'm not afraid of…" I began, but Tuor interrupted.

"It's because of your father, isn't it? You think that if you cry or show that you aren't made of stone then your father will never respect you and think of you as just another weak girl. Look, sister, I know where you're coming from. You and I both had to grow up fast and tough. But you've gotta let yourself go sometimes. If I hadn't, I wouldn't even be in Gondolin. Come on, Idril, trust me. As a friend. Let your guard down for five seconds."

I looked at him for a second, wondering how anyone could think Tuor was dumb when he'd practically just read my mind. Then I stopped thinking completely and burst into tears.

The last time I had cried—really cried—was after Maeglin had told me that he loved me. I had thought then that my life couldn't get _any _worse, and yet it had. A bunch of my family and friends had died, Gondolin was doomed, and I was in love with one of my best friends. I wished I could go back in time. I wished I could be back in Vinyamar, where I was actually happy. I wished I could go _home_!

During all of this, Tuor (who, I'm sure, was quite pleased by my sudden display of weakness) had pulled me into his arms and patted my back, not seeming to care that I was getting his shirt all wet. "That's what I'm talking about," he whispered. "Just let it out. You'll be okay."

_I love you I love you I love you I love you_, I thought.

But of course I didn't say it.

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About a year passed. Dad built Tuor a house along the walls in the South Side, so I didn't see him as much, which annoyed me very much and proved to me even more that love sucked. Meanwhile, things sort of returned to normal, since Dad had decided we weren't leaving Gondolin and no discussion was going to happen on that subject.

"It's probably for the best," Glorfindel said reasonably. "If there's a lot of talk about the city being destroyed, then people will get upset and make a fuss."

"Glorfindel, I thought you agreed with me!" I said. We were sitting in the same guard tower that Huor and Hurin had ended up in, drinking coffee and arguing about Dad's decision.

"I do agree with you. But all I'm saying is that since there's nothing we can do to change things, we may as well make the best of this. Even though we're all doomed, the economy's thriving, everyone has enough to eat, and the people are happy." He looked at me and shrugged. "Well, all the people except you, at least."

"Yeah, I'm never happy," I laughed. "But you can't blame me for being annoyed. The God of the Sea tells us to leave because we're in danger and we just _ignore _that? Come on."

"You have a point," said Glorfindel. "Excuse me, I think I'm wanted." He stood up and walked to the door, where someone had been knocking for the last minute or so. "What is it?"

The door flew open, and Voronwe's friend Elemmakil (who guarded the First Gate) entered, pulling behind him a girl in very dirty, torn clothes with a lot more dirt smeared on her face and chin-length sandy hair.

"This girl showed up at the gate this morning," he said. "Says she used to live here, before she ran off. I figured I'd better bring her to you."

"Duh, Elemmakil, don't you _recognize _me?" spat the girl. "It's me, Iavas. We went to school together. I keep telling you that!"

"What reason do I have to believe you?" asked Elemmakil. "You could be a spy in disguise."

"Oh, yeah, that's_real _likely," said the girl sarcastically. "If I was a spy, how would I have known how to get here? Honestly, Elemmakil, you're such an _idiot_."

"Iavas?" I said, shocked. "Is that really you?"

You'll remember that I mentioned Iavas before—she was the girl Voronwe had a crush on before she ran off, and there was some big drama surrounding this. Now I can actually explain the drama.

Iavas was the daughter of a Telerin mariner and a Noldorin heiress, who'd both stayed behind when we went to Gondolin and had joined up with Cirdan's people. Their daughter had ended up going to Gondolin with her grandmother. She'd had been in her early teens when she came to Gondolin, as had Voronwe and Elemmakil, and the three of them had instantly been friends. As time went on, it became increasingly obvious that Voronwe had, shall we say, deeper feelings for Iavas, but she didn't seem to notice.

Almost as soon as she'd finished her education and come of age, Iavas had disappeared completely. Eventually the story came out that she'd run off to join her father on the ocean and wouldn't be coming back. Voronwe, of course, was devastated.

By an odd coincidence, Voronwe and Iavas' father ended up working on the same ship for Dad's whole sending-messengers-to-Valinor plan, but Iavas wasn't there—she'd gotten a job on a fishing boat and was way out at sea already. And of course, when the ship got wrecked, Iavas' dad drowned.

And now his daughter had apparently returned.

"Yes, it's me!" said Iavas angrily. "I'm glad _someone _recognizes me, even if one of my best friends doesn't! You're a jerk, Elemmakil, you know that?"

"Okay," said Elemmakil, "if you're really Iavas, then you'll know the answer to this question. Why did going to school in Gondolin suck?"

Iavas tossed her hair. "Easy. Because we were always sober during math, drunk during history, and hungover by the end of the day."

Elemmakil laughed. "You're Iavas, all right. Welcome home." He hugged her, and looked and Glorfindel's and my raised eyebrows over her shoulder. "Inside joke. Don't ask."

"Well," said Glorfindel, turning to me, "that was interesting."

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Of course, there was the brief formality of taking Iavas before Dad and explaining exactly what had happened and why a girl who had left the city illegally was now returning even _more _illegally. But that wasn't too hard.

Hah.

"You let Voronwe come back when he left," I argued. "Why is Iavas' case any different?"

"Because I _told_Voronwe to leave," said Dad. "He was performing a service for the city. This girl only left because she got sick of the city, and she only came back because she got sick of the outside world."

"That is _so _not true," protested Iavas. "I left because I had promised my dad that I'd go with Grandma to get a good education but that I'd come back when it was done, and I came back because Dad died and I missed my friends."

"Be that as it may, missy, it is against the laws of Gondolin for us to allow you back here," said Dad sternly.

"Oh, for heaven's sakes, Dad, she's already here," I said, rolling my eyes. "What are you going to do with her if you don't let her back in? We can't just kick her out of the city; it'd be idiotic. Let her go back and live with her grandmother or get her own place. She won't do any harm." I turned to Iavas. "Will you?"

"Nah, I got most of the crazy out of my system already," said Iavas. "You let me come back here and I'll rent a house by the walls and mind my own business."

Dad sighed. "Fine, I see I have no choice. But Iavas, if you leave again, you'll never be allowed to come back. And to prevent any more random people showing up in Gondolin, we're sealing off the entrance."

Well, I didn't want him to go _that _far, exactly. But at least Iavas got to stay. And I couldn't _wait _to see what happened between her and Voronwe.


	21. Hometown Romances

**Chapter 21: Hometown Romances**

"**The only thing worse than being in love is not being in love."**

**-Nerdanel daughter of Mahtan**

True to her word, Iavas left her grandmother's house (much to said grandmother's chagrin) and, using her earnings from her job as a "ship's boy" rented a tiny house by the eastern walls and didn't bother anyone. Indeed, she kept to herself so much that Voronwe didn't hear she was back until about a week later, when I took it upon myself to tell him. Hey, I'd want someone to tell me if the person I'd had a crush on all my life was back in town after a long absence.

I ran into him in the marketplace when I was going shopping with Dinniel and Meleth (not that I actually needed to shop in the marketplace, as I was a princess and the marketplace was considered somewhat common, but I liked the marketplace. It was fun, and a good place to hear gossip). He was standing around looking bored when Meleth noticed him.

"Hey, there's Voronwe!" she said, pointing him out to Dinniel and me. "He looks depressed. Do you think he knows about Iavas coming back?"

"Probably not," said Dinniel. "Either that or he talked to her and she dumped him."

"Well, I want to find out. Go ask him," ordered Meleth.

"No way, I'm not asking him that! Idril, you're the princess here, you go ask him. As a politician it's your right to go around sticking your nose in other people's business." Dinniel gave me a push in Voronwe's direction. "Go on!"

Having been pressured into it, I walked over to Voronwe and tapped him on the shoulder. "Yo, Voronwe. You okay?"

He turned towards me and shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just bored. Oh, and by the way, did you know that you've started talking like Tuor now? You must spend a lot of time together."

"Not as much as I'd like," I admitted ruefully. "Ever since he got his own place I hardly ever see him."

"Well, he's sort of reclusive, our Tuor is," said Voronwe. "Don't worry; he'll start showing his face around town soon enough. And I know he thinks pretty highly of you."

"Really? That's good to hear," I said, trying to hide how delighted I was at what he had just said. "It's always confidence-boosting to know that people like you. But actually, Voronwe, I haven't told you the reason I came over here to talk to you yet."

"What's up?"

"I don't know if you've heard this already, but did you know that your old friend Iavas is back in town? She's got her own place now, on the East Side."

Voronwe gaped at me. "Iavas?"

"Yeah, and she says she really missed you while she was gone." She hadn't really said that, but I figured hey, Voronwe was one of her best friends; she'd probably missed him at least _some_.

"Huh!" said Voronwe, obviously trying to hide how excited he was. "Well, I should probably go say hi to her, you know, for old time's sake. Do you know where her house is?"

"Yes, I do, and I can take you there now if you want me to."

"Oh, yeah," said Voronwe. "Definitely."

Iavas' house was no palace—a tiny, one-story place painted an extremely bright shade of blue that had almost no yard. It seemed like her kind of place. I went up and knocked on the door, while Voronwe stood behind me looking nervous.

"Yeah?" said Iavas, opening the door. Her hair was tied back, and she was wearing a plain brown tunic that reached her knees. "Oh, hey, Idril. What's up?"

"Iavas?" said Voronwe, stepping in front of me. Iavas' eyes widened, and she ran over to him and pulled him into a hug.

"Voronwe, you old seadog! You have no idea how much I missed you."

"Yeah, I missed you too," her friend replied, looking _very _pleased. "So…why'd you come back?"

"Well, with my dad dead, I just got really depressed, so I figured that I may as well go back to where everyone knew my name," Iavas explained, extracting herself from the hug. "It was pretty hard convincing old King Mule to let me come back, but Idril sorted that out."

"'King Mule'?" I said, laughing.

"Yeah, that's what our crowd calls your old man," said Iavas. "No offense or anything."

"None taken," I said. "It's actually pretty funny."

"Look, Iavas, I have to talk to you," said Voronwe seriously. "Can we go inside?"

"Sure," said Iavas. "See you around, Idril."

They went inside, and I was about to leave before I realized that if I didn't bring back any news for Dinniel and Meleth I'd probably be in huge trouble. So I did something very un-princess-like and went around to the side of the house, where I peeked through the semi-open window.

Voronwe and Iavas were sitting on the couch looking awkward. Finally Voronwe cleared his throat and spoke.

"Look, Iavas," he said. "We've been friends since we were thirteen, right?"

"Yep," Iavas confirmed.

"And we can tell each other anything, right?"

"I guess so," said Iavas, seeming somewhat nervous as to where this was going. "Voronwe, is something wrong?"

"Not really," said Voronwe. "Well, kind of, actually. Iavas, I… um…like you. I_really _like you. Always have."

"Oh," said Iavas slowly. Then it dawned on her what he meant, and her eyes widened. "Oh!"

"Is that, um, okay?" asked Voronwe anxiously.

Iavas looked at him for a moment, then narrowed her eyes and slapped him across the face. Whoa.

"You _jerk_!" she cried, standing up furiously. "Why couldn't you have told me this, oh, I don't know, _before I left_? The only reason I left—well, other than that I told my dad I would—was because I thought you'd never love me! And now I find out that you've loved me all along and that I left for no reason? You are such a _jerk_!"

"Er…sorry," said Voronwe, standing up as well and starting to walk towards the door. "I guess I'd better go, then."

She put her hand on his shoulder. "Don't you _dare _leave."

You can probably guess what happened next. Needless to say, I left Iavas' house feeling that maybe some romances worked out after all.

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This was again proved some days later, in a very surprising way. And believe me, I was _not_in the mood to be surprised. Voronwe and Iavas were happily together, there had been no new scandals, and Gondolin was still intact and thriving. I was relatively content with things the way they were.

Of course things didn't remain that way, though. I've said it before, but in case you missed it I'll say it again: _Never be content and expect to remain that way_.

Got it? Great. On with the story.

It began when I ran into everyone's favorite jeweler Enerdhil in the palace hallways. I hadn't seen him for some time, so of course I said hello and asked him why he was here.

"Oh, just talking to your dad about something," he said dismissively. "But hey, can I talk to you for a second? I think you might be able to help me with something."

"Sure," I said, wondering what on earth Enerdhil needed my help with. I'd never really thought of Enerdhil as someone with problems. He just seemed to blend into the background. "Let's go to the library."

"So here's my problem," said Enerdhil when we were seated in the library. "You know your friend Dinniel?"

"Yeah," I said, resisting the urge to say "Duh, Enerdhil, _obviously _I know her! She's been my friend for ages! Get to the _point _already!"

"Well, the thing is, I…um, I…" He cleared his throat and said quickly, "I'm kind of in love with her and I was wondering if you could get her to, you know, go out with me or something?"

I stared at him.

"Dinniel?" I managed to get out. "You like _Dinniel_?"

"That was Maeglin's reaction," said Enerdhil, shaking his head. "And I know it's stupid for me to like someone as popular as her, but, well I do, okay?"

"Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that!" I assured him. "I'm just surprised, is all. I kind of thought you liked…"

"You?" said Enerdhil. He smiled. "Well, I did, for a while. I'm pretty sure that every guy in the city has had a crush on you at least once. But, well, yeah, since I've got no chance with you, I went with someone else."

"That was very sensible of you," I said approvingly, and stood up. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll talk to Dinniel for you."

Enerdhil looked up hopefully. "Really? Thanks, Idril. You're the best."

As I walked up to my room, I shook my head. Really, this was too much. The shyest guy in Gondolin falling in love with Dinniel the Flirt? And a guy falling OUT of love with me? Now that was something I wasn't used to. I didn't mind, of course, since I was in love with Tuor and nothing was going to change that, but it felt a bit strange.

Dinniel wasn't in my room, as it turned out—she was in the conservatory sewing. I sat down next to her.

"Dinniel?" I said. "I have something very big to talk to you about."

"Can't it wait?" she asked absently.

"_No_. For heaven's sakes, girl, put down that needle and _look at me_! This is really important."

She rolled her eyes and put down said needle. "What is it, Idril?"

"Okay," I said. "You know Enerdhil? Shaggy black hair, green eyes, one of Maeglin's friends?"

"Yeah, I know him," said Dinniel. "He's cute. I like him. Why?"

"Well—get this—he's in love with you."

"Wait," Dinniel said, frowning. "Are you sure? I thought he liked you."

"He said he used to, but now he likes _you_. And he asked me to talk to you and maybe see if you'd go out with him."

"You're serious? Oh my gosh, that's the cutest thing ever!" squealed Dinniel. "That he'd be so shy that he'd need you to talk to me, I mean. Tell him I'll totally give him a chance."

"Tell him yourself, I'm sick of being the messenger," I ordered. "Besides, it's just all in all _better _if you tell him."

Dinniel stood up, her embroidery completely forgotten. "Yes, ma'am!"

Before she ran out of the room, I was able to use my amazing mind-reading abilities to detect this thought: _Well, finally_.


	22. Your Best Friend

_**Man, I have NOT been getting as many reviews lately. Where are you people? I miss you: )**_

**Chapter 22: Your Best Friend**

"**Behind every successful man is a woman, behind her is his wife."****  
-****Groucho Marx**

"I'm getting married!"

This was how Dinniel greeted Meleth and me two weeks later, entering my room abruptly in the middle of a very intense card game. Of course, when we heard what she said (to me some of the most dangerous words in our language), we dropped what we were doing immediately.

"You're getting_what_?" I cried.

"Married. Enerdhil asked me to marry him, and I said yes," said Dinniel, sitting down elegantly. "Sheesh, Idril. Are you deaf or something?"

"I heard what you said," I said. "I'm just surprised, is all. This seems kind of sudden."

"Hey, you fell in love with Tuor after a day and a half," Dinniel pointed about. "And two weeks with Enerdhil was enough to know that I could never be happy with anyone else."

"You couldn't pay any attention to anyone else for more than five minutes, you mean," laughed Meleth.

"If that wasn't true and if I weren't so happy, I'd get you for that," said Dinniel, elbowing her. "And Idril, I know, you think marriage is stupid and all that, but…"

"Now, now, Din," I interrupted. "I said that marriage is stupid for girls descended from the House of Finwe. And as far as I know, neither you nor Enerdhil is related to me, so you'll probably be very happy."

She sighed with relief. "That's good news."

"I'll sure miss your fashion advice, though," I said sorrowfully. "Who else is going to make sure I don't wear guys' boots with long skirts?"

"Wait just one minute!" said Dinniel, sitting up straight. "Who said that I wouldn't be giving you fashion advice anymore?"

"Well, you're getting married," I said. "I figured you'd quit working for me, since your husband would be bringing in all the money you needed."

"You know, Idril," commented Dinniel, "for someone who seems really smart, you sure are an idiot sometimes. I don't work for you because I need the money. I don't even work for you because I like having a job. I work for you because you don't make me work—because you treat me like an equal and you're pretty much the best friend I've ever had. No offense, Meleth honey."

"None taken," said Meleth brightly.

"Good," said Dinniel. "So Idril, I'm still going to be your lady-in-waiting after I get married. Enerdhil convinced your dad to give him a forge adjacent to the palace, so we'll have our own suite of rooms in said palace and I'll still hang around here when Enerdhil's working. It'll be perfect."

I screamed in happiness and hugged her. "Dinniel, that is _brilliant_! I'm sorry that I ever treated you like an idiot, if I did."

"I'm just so excited that you're getting married!" said Meleth. "When's the wedding?"

"Six months from now," replied Dinniel. "And you guys have to help me plan everything out, okay?"

"Of course we will," I said. "You're our friend, after all, and we couldn't let you do this without our constant input."

"This'll be _so much fun_!" squealed Meleth. "I remember helping with my aunt's wedding when I was a teenager, and that was _great_. You guys should have seen the dress she wore."

"I was thinking I might make my dress myself," said Dinniel. "I'm pretty good at sewing, you know, and that way I can make it look exactly how I want. You guys can help with that, too."

"You know what we need to do?" I said excitedly. "The night before the wedding, we need to have a huge party at your house and invite _all _your friends. To celebrate your last night as a single woman."

"Ooh, that sounds like fun," said Dinniel. "If I can convince Dad to let me have the house to myself for an evening…"

We continued planning for the next hour or so, and then I excused myself to take a brief walk to get some fresh air. Purely by accident, I found myself in the South Side, so I decided that I may as well drop by and visit Tuor while I was in the neighborhood.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't purely by accident. But come on. I was in love, and besides, I'd never seen the inside of Tuor's house before. I had my reasons.

The house was nice—your typical two-story, white-stone house with a lot of windows and a large porch. It didn't really seem like a Tuor sort of place, except for that painted on the side of the house in large black letters were the words "OUTLAWS RULE!"

Ah, graffiti. What would we do without it?

I walked up the steps, crossed the porch, and knocked on the door. There was no answer for a moment, and finally I heard Tuor's voice yell "Who is it?"

"It's me, Idril," I yelled back. "Can I come in?"

There was silence, and then the door opened and Tuor appeared, looking just as scruffy and gorgeous as ever. I smiled, being unable to help it.

"Yo, Idril," said Tuor, looking pleased to see me. "Ain't seen you for a while. What brings you to my crappy house?"

"It doesn't look that crappy to me," I remarked, looking around. "Except for the graffiti, and that's actually kind of cool."

"Yeah, it's fine from the outside. But have you gotten a load of the inside?" He opened the door wider, and from my position on the porch I could see that he wasn't kidding. The place was a _mess_. There were pieces of paper and books scattered everywhere, and I could see a few stains on the walls.

"You can take the boy away from the Easterlings, but you can't take the Easterling out of the boy," I muttered thoughtfully.

Tuor, whom I didn't mean to have heard me, laughed. "You got that right. Come on inside, the rest of it's even worse."

I followed him inside the messy house and sat down in what appeared to be his sitting room (there was so much stuff lying around that I wasn't really sure). The couch was comfortable, and obviously very worn. Now _that_ was Tuor-ish.

"So," I said, when we were both sitting down and comfortable. "How are you liking Gondolin?"

He shrugged. "It's pretty cool. But frankly, it feels kinda weird, too. I haven't done this little work in my life."

"Really?" I laughed. "How do you mean?"

"Well, most of my life I've had to work hard twelve hours a day and do pretty much nothing else. Now that I'm here, I have to cook my own food and sweep my own floors (which I'm not too good at, in case you haven't noticed) and that's pretty much it. Definitely not what I'm used to."

"You know, you don't really even need to do that," I said. "Most people have servants to cook and sweep for them."

"No way, girl. I'm never gonna have servants. It'd feel way messed up to be in charge of someone else. Besides, only rich kids have servants."

"Um, Tuor?" I said. "Hate to break it to you, but you're a rich kid now."

"I'm what?"

"You're a rich kid. You've got a ton of money that you haven't earned, you've got a nice house in a good neighborhood, and you can pretty much do whatever you want without getting in trouble. Those are pretty much the qualifications for rich kid."

"Weird," said Tuor, shaking his head. "So anyway, what's up with you? How's life in the king's house?"

"Oh, you'll never guess what!" I said eagerly. "Enerdhil finally asked Dinniel to marry him! She said yes, of course, and now Meleth and I are helping her plan everything. Because hey, I might think marriage is stupid, but it's so fun helping with weddings."

"It seems like you've been helping with a lot of weddings recently," said Tuor contemplatively.

"How so?"

"Well, first of all, there was the deal with Iavas and Voronwe. You didn't exactly make them fall in love with each other, but you did help Iavas get re-settled in Gondolin, which led to her and Voronwe getting engaged."

"I didn't know they were engaged," I said, frowning.

"It happened yesterday. They didn't tell anyone except me, because I'm Voronwe's buddy and all. But getting back to what I was saying, you were pretty much behind Dinniel and Enerdhil getting engaged too, from what I've heard. If you hadn't talked to Dinniel for him, she'd never have paid the slightest bit of attention to him. For someone who hates the idea of marriage, you sure cause a lot of it to happen."

"And you sure know a lot for a guy who never goes anywhere," I returned, punching him in the shoulder.

He laughed. "Okay, okay, you win. Stop hitting me, you have very bony knuckles."

I smiled. This, I thought, was how life should always be—two of my friends were happily engaged, Gondolin hadn't been destroyed yet, and I was getting some quality time with the only person I'd ever consider marrying. With any luck, things could stay like this, at least for a while…


	23. It's a Girl Thing

**Chapter 23: It's a Girl Thing**

"**All men are idiots, and I married their king."**

**-Bumper Sticker**

With the help of her friends, Dinniel managed to make for herself the prettiest wedding dress I'd ever seen. It was pale green and sleeveless, and had a scandalously short shirt that only reached her knees (that was my idea, I'm proud to say. There's nothing more fun than shocking people). And of course, Dinniel looked perfect in it.

The night before her wedding, we threw a girls-only party at Dinniel's house, having promised her dad that we would go easy on the furniture. Actually, things didn't really get that wild—we mostly sat around and made fun of our husbands, boyfriends, and stupid guys who had hit on us.

"Look, I love Voronwe, but that boy's dad is _weird_," said Iavas, rolling her eyes. "Yesterday I was over at Voronwe's house, just hanging out, and his dad comes in the room and looks at me all suspicious, right? So I'm like, 'Um…is something wrong?' and his dad just shakes his head and goes, 'Young ladies these days, my goodness…' and just leaves. That guy is, like, crazy."

"Poor you," said Dinniel, patting her on the shoulder. "Enerdhil's parents aren't that weird, though I _did _overhear his mother saying to his father that I was 'entirely too frivolous.'"

"Smart woman," I said, nodding. Dinniel fake-slapped me.

"Boys are so weird," said Anna, Dinniel's cousin. She'd been engaged three times but had never gotten married, much to her parents' horror. "It's like, they think that you'll love them if they give you expensive stuff and tell you you're pretty. This one guy I was engaged to bought me a new pair of earrings every week, but I never had a real conversation with him."

"Well, Din, at least you're marrying a smith," said Meleth. "That way you get free jewelry."

There was a murmur of assent from around the room, and Dinniel leaned back in her chair and smiled in a self-satisfied way.

"Well, _I've_been married for years, so I know what it's like," said Meleth's friend Ellian.

"And now I suppose you're going to tell me a bunch of horror stories so I get really scared and start to think I don't want to get married after all?" said Dinniel, raising her eyebrows. "That's why Anna broke off her first engagement, you know."

"No, in fact I'm not," said Ellian. "I'll just give you some motherly advice."

"You're the same age as her," I pointed out.

"That doesn't matter. I'm married and she's not, which makes me more experienced." Ellian leaned over and put a hand on Dinniel's shoulder. "Dinniel, marriage is a lot of work and occasionally very stressful, but it's a lot of fun, too. You just have to make sure to show your husband you can't be pushed around."

"I don't think she'll have to do much of that," said Iavas. "Enerdhil worships her; he'll do whatever she tells him."

"I wouldn't like that," I said. "It's annoying when guys worship you. I want a guy who treats me like an equal—no more, no less."

"Poor Idril," said Anna. "Life is hard for us girls with high standards, isn't it?"

"Why does every conversation end up being about Idril?" asked Dinniel. "Let's not forget whose party this is, people."

"Don't take it personally, Dinniel," said Meleth comfortingly. "Idril's just way more interesting than you."

"That might be a good thing," said Dinniel. "After all, my dad loves me, and none of my cousins are in love with me."

"Ew," said Anne, wrinkling her nose. "Sorry, honey, but you're not my type."

We all laughed and continued talking. The party lasted until about midnight, by which time we decided that there was nothing left to talk about and went home. And the furniture was spared.

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The next day Dinniel was calmer than I'd ever seen her. Normally she was super-enthusiastic and perky, but today she was just relaxed and serene. To everyone else, it would seem like she was perfectly happy. To her best friends, of course, this meant she was nervous.

I hugged her. "Don't worry, honey. You guys will be perfectly happy, trust me. You're perfect for each other."

She hugged me back. "You're a dear, Idril. I don't know what I'd do without you and Meleth." She hugged Meleth, too.

"I can't believe you're going to be the first of us married," said Meleth. "No, wait, I can."

"Well, you'll probably be married in a few years too," Dinniel said.

"Who do you think I'll marry?" asked Meleth eagerly.

"Oh, don't ask me, I'm not the one who can predict the future," said Dinniel mysteriously. "Ask Idril."

"I can't predict the future!" I protested. "But fine, whatever. Meleth, you'll marry one of my dad's guards and have two daughters, both with blonde hair like you and green eyes like your husband. You'll continue to work for me for while, but after a few years you'll quit and your oldest daughter will take your place. However, you and I will still get together every week to complain about things."

"That's scary," said Meleth. "I wonder if any of that is actually true."

"Wouldn't it be funny if it was?" said Dinniel. "Okay, now do me."

"You'll have three kids, two of them boys, and eventually you'll get enough money to buy a house by the palace. _You_ won't quit working for me, since you love me and you won't have anything else to do while Enerdhil is working, and your kitchen will always be perfectly clean."

She nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now, what do you think will happen to you?"

"I'll never marry, because I'll never be able to tell Tuor that I love him until just before he dies, and by then it'll be too late for anything to happen. So I'll just be an old maid all my life and read every single book ever written three times. And I'll convince Dad to hand the throne to me if he ever steps down, and I'll be an amazing ruler, if a somewhat bitter one." I sighed and smoothed back my hair, and Dinniel shook her head.

"Man, Idril, you are one heck of a pessimist. You want to know what I think will happen to you?"

"Okay," I said. "But I thought you couldn't predict the future."

Dinniel shrugged. "I can't. But remember, you said you couldn't either." She sat down next to me and looked at the ceiling. "You'll finally work up the nerve to tell Tuor you love him, and he'll be surprised because he always thought _you _only thought of _him_ as a friend, but he'll love you back and after a couple years you'll get married. You'll have one kid—I'm not sure if it'll be a boy or a girl, but it'll have blonde hair and dark blue eyes—and they'll be just as smart as you and as crazy as Tuor. And you'll eat a lot of cake and be very happy." She smiled at me. "Isn't that a lot better than what you said?"

"Better, yes. More likely? I don't know," I replied. "But thank you, Din. You're a wonderful friend and I will definitely miss being able to talk to you in the middle of the night about the meaning of life." I hugged her again, as did Meleth. Dinniel smiled and stood up.

"Thank you both," she said calmly. "Now, let's be off. I have to go and get married."

The wedding was very small and very nice, with lots of good food afterwards, but I wasn't very hungry. I kept watching Enerdhil and Dinniel in all their newly-married joy and wondering if I'd ever be that happy. Right now, it didn't seem too likely.


	24. New Year's Eve

_**So here we go—one of THE most important chapters in the entire freaking story. What's going to happen? I bet you can guess…**_

**Chapter 24: New Year's Eve**

"**It must be pretty cool to know where you belong."**

**-The Descendents**

It was three and a half years later, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd tried so hard to look perfect. Normally I just braided my hair and wore whatever, so as not to attract unwelcome attention. But since tonight was my dad's big annual New Year's party and Tuor had promised he'd be there, I wanted to make myself look as pretty as possible.

"How do I look, Dinniel?" I asked anxiously, tugging on the skirt of my dress.

Dinniel sighed and set down the comb she was running through my hair. "Idril. There is nothing more annoying in this world than a gorgeous girl who knows she's gorgeous yet insists on asking other people how she looks. So just shut up, okay? You look amazing and any guy who comes within a thirty-foot radius is going to fall head over heels in love with you."

"Even Tuor?"

"Even him. Now stop talking. You'll mess up your lip rouge."

I shut up immediately, with the brief, guilty thought that something as trivial as lip rouge could make me do so.

Finally Dinniel finished fussing with me and turned me towards the mirror. "There, all done. Admire thyself, milady."

I looked in the mirror and gasped, being unable to help it. Whatever Dinniel had done, it worked. My hair had been combed perfectly straight and hung down my back like silk, my eyes had been circled with a thin line of charcoal, and my lips had been painted bright red. Even from the neck up I looked great. But the best part, of course, was the dress. It was made of shimmery dark gold silk, only slightly darker than my hair, and aside from being gorgeous it was one of the most comfortable dresses I'd ever had. For once, I actually looked like royalty.

"Oh my Gods," I said.

My friend laughed triumphantly. "She finally sees herself as everyone else sees her! Girl, you're perfect. Now, how do I look?"

I eyed Dinniel and nodded approvingly. Her dark brown hair was messily piled on her head, and she was wearing a bright pink dress and bright blue shoes. Most girls wouldn't have gotten away with the weird combination of colors, but on Dinniel it worked.

"You look great, Din," I said. "And you definitely don't look like an old married lady."

"Hey!" said Dinniel indignantly. "But thanks. Have you seen Meleth?"

"I'm here, I'm here!" said Meleth, running in the room still in her pigtails and everyday clothes. "Am I too late to help? Oh my goodness. Idril, what has Dinniel done to you?"

"I wonder that myself!" I laughed. "But enough about me, we've got to get you ready. You can't wear _that_."

"Um…I don't really think I'm going to go at all," said Meleth guiltily. "I'm not in a party type of mood."

I put my hands on my hips imperiously. "Hush, servant! I, Princess Idril of Gondolin, command that you come with your friends and have the time of your life. Dinniel, find this silly girl a dress."

Dinniel saluted smartly. "Yes, ma'am!" She grabbed Meleth's arm and pulled her out of the room, leaving me alone to smile at my reflection and twirl around. For once in my life, I felt _proud _of being pretty. Strange, huh? When I was a teenager, I'd been plain and awkward, and it hadn't really bothered me. But ever since I'd grown up and gotten better-looking, I hadn't felt comfortable with my looks at all.

Things were different tonight.

A few seconds after my inner monologue was finished, my two best friends re-entered the room, Meleth wearing a simple black dress with lace around the hem and sleeves. Her dark blonde hair had been pulled back into a high ponytail, and she was wearing a pair of glittery silver sandals I'd never seen her wear before. For once in her life, Meleth didn't look girly or prim at all.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed. "You look like a completely different person!"

"I know, isn't it great?" agreed Dinniel. "She's had these sandals in her closet for years, and she's _never _worn them before! What is _up_ with that?"

Meleth looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes. "I never really thought they were my style."

"Well, you've got to start wearing them more often," I said. "You're dazzling, Meleth."

She smiled self-consciously and continued to look at her feet.

"Okay, then, are we all ready?" asked Dinniel brightly.

"Yes, we are," I said. "Come on, girls."

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The ballroom was packed when we got there—more people than I'd ever seen at one of Dad's New Year's Ever parties before. And that was saying something, because half the city usually showed up to Dad's New Year's Ever parties.

I located Dad himself sitting in his big chair on the dais at the other side of the room and went over to join him. Dinniel and Meleth followed me, though they were obviously dying to go and join the crowd. Well, I thought firmly, they could wait for a few moments. I had something very important to take care of.

"Hello, Idril," said Dad as I sat down in the chair next to him. "You look lovely."

"Thanks. You look good too." It was true, actually. Dad could look quite handsome when he wanted to (even though he was an old guy and kind of a geek). "So, have you seen Tuor anywhere?"

"No, I haven't," said Dad, looking at me curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," I lied smoothly. "He just told me he'd be here, and I wanted to see if he'd have the guts to go through with it since he usually avoids these things."

"Ah," said Dad. He seemed slightly disappointed, though I couldn't tell why. "Well, I could send someone to find him, if you want."

"No, that's okay, I'll find him myself," I said. "Dinniel, Meleth, you guys can go have fun. And Dinniel, you should go find Enerdhil. You've been hanging around us so much that he probably doesn't know if he's married to you anymore."

"Okay, thanks," said Dinniel. "We'll tell you if we see Tuor, if we can find you in this crowd." She and Meleth ran off. I looked at Dad, and we both laughed.

"That Dinniel is a real piece of work," said Dad.

"I know, she's great," I said. "See you later, Dad." Hiking up my skirt, I left the dais and went to look for Tuor.

I finally found him standing by the table where the food was (well, of course he'd be there. He was Tuor, after all). Gods, he looked good. He was wearing a dark blue tunic that not only was fancier than anything I'd ever seen him wear before, but made his hair look brighter and his eyes stand out even more.

_Someone please kill me,_ I thought. _I am disgustingly in love with this guy._

Unaware of my being disgustingly in love with him, Tuor grinned when he saw me. "Idril! How're you doing?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"Yeah, I'm cool. Yo, I like that dress. Looks good on ya."

"Oh, you think so?" I said, trying to conceal my delight that he'd complimented me on my dress. "Thanks. Normally I don't try this hard to look presentable."

"Same here," laughed Tuor. "Crowded room tonight, huh."

"You got that right," I said. "I didn't think you'd have the guts to come, since you don't like crowds."

"Well, I almost didn't come, but then I remembered that this was Gondolin and there would probably be free food here. I live for free food."

"Yep, it's the meaning of life," I said. "Do you want to dance or something?"

"Nah, I suck at dancing. Wouldn't want to embarrass the both of us."

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you don't suck. You just need more confidence."

"Nope. Not going to. Go dance with Glorfindel; I'll just hang out here."

I started to protest, but decided that if he didn't want to dance with me there was nothing I could do about it. Dejectedly, I walked over to Glorfindel who was standing nearby.

"You want to dance?" I asked him.

"Sure, why not," he replied. It was a slow dance, so we were able to talk during it.

"So I assume Tuor didn't feel like dancing?" said Glorfindel.

"Yeah, he said he sucked," I said. "I think he's way too hard on himself sometimes."

Glorfindel frowned. "You like him, don't you."

"Of course I like him," I said cautiously. "He's one of my best friends."

"No, you _like_like him. I've known it for years."

"What are you talking about? I'm not in love with…" He raised an eyebrow at me, and I sighed. "Is it that obvious?"

"Only to me," Glorfindel assured me. "And I'm just highly perceptive that way. So you're going to break your vow to never get married?"

"Probably not," I said sadly. "He only likes me as a friend. He'll never love me."

"Hey, don't be so sure," said Glorfindel. "If my amazing sixth sense is at all accurate, I think you two might be sort of meant for each other."

"Well, that's comforting." The song ended, and we bowed to each other. "Thanks for the dance."

"Sure thing."

Glorfindel walked away, and I went out to the balcony. The ballroom was getting a bit too hot and crowded, and I needed some time to think.

The city was beautiful in the snow. All of the buildings glittered, and the snowflakes looked like falling stars. For once, I wished that I could love Gondolin like my father did. I wished that I felt more at home there. But I didn't, and I was stuck there until it got destroyed and we all died unpleasant, painful deaths.

Hearing footsteps, I looked up and saw Tuor walking towards me. That was good. At least I'd have some company out here.

Tuor leaned back against the railing. "Well, another year almost gone," he said brightly. "This is my fifth New Year's Eve in this crazy city, you know."

_And the fifth year I've been too afraid to tell you that I love you_, I thought. But I just laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"Got any goals for the new year?" Tuor asked. "My goal is to eat more, swear less, and beat Ecthelion at cards at least once."

"You say that every year," I reminded him. "And the only thing you've improved on is eating."

"Well, what about you? Have you completed your new year's resolutions?"

I shook my head. "Actually, I've had the same goal for the past five years and I've never had the courage to do anything about it."

"And what's that?"

The clock started striking midnight.

I have no idea why I did what I did next. After having spent my life denying that I'd ever do _anything _like that, it was something of a shock. But I was in love, and love makes you do strange things.

"This," I said, and kissed the man I loved right on the lips.

Oh, yeah. I did it.

When we broke apart, a very shocked-looking Tuor smoothed back his hair. "Okay, then," he said. "Care to explain what all that was about?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I asked. "I love you. I've loved you since I first saw you."

"Yeah, I thought that might be it. But it's kind of confusing, since I thought you had vowed to never fall in love or something."

"Well, I guess it's impossible to out-logic one's emotions," I said. "Do you love me?"

"If I didn't, I'd probably have told you by now," said Tuor. "Heck yeah, I love you! I've loved you for ages. I always thought you just liked me as a friend, though."

"Oh my gosh, that's exactly what I thought about you! We are some very sad, clueless people, Tuor."

"Amen. At least now we've gotten everything sorted out and can stop worrying."

"Yep," I said. "But anyway, sorry about the suddenness of all this. It was _way_too undignified, wasn't it?"

Tuor grinned wickedly. "Nah, I don't think it was undignified enough."

And I know that technically, my first kiss was with Maeglin, but compared to this? That was _nothing_, baby.


	25. Aftermath

**Chapter 25: Aftermath**

"**I've had a perfectly wonderful evening, and this wasn't it."**

**-Groucho Marx**

Tuor and I came back into the ballroom some minutes later, trying to make it look like we'd been just talking and not making out. It was hard for me, since I was just _so happy_! Finally I'd really let down my guard and showed that I had feelings, and it had turned out pretty well, I must say. Why hadn't I done this _years_ ago? 

"I have to go meet up with Dad and my friends real quick, but then you have to dance with me, okay?" I said to Tuor. "I'm not taking no for an answer this time."

He bowed. "You got it, Your Majesty."

"Shut up. Remember, I fell in love with you because you treated me like an equal." I smiled at him quickly and then ran off, knowing Dad was going to be furious at me. Every year at midnight we did this thing where we'd toast to the prosperity of Gondolin or whatever, and I was supposed to be there for it, but I'd missed it this year. Oh, well. What I had been doing was much more important. 

Dad frowned when I ran up to his chair on the dais. "So you've finally seen fit to join us, Idril. Where _were _you?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I was talking to Tuor out on the balcony, and kind of lost track of time," I explained, hoping he wouldn't get suspicious. I mean, I didn't want to tell my _dad_ about this!

"Well, happy New Year, anyway," said Dad. "Another good year in Gondolin, eh?"

"Yep. Have you seen my friends?"

"We're here, we're here!" said Dinniel, appearing next to me with Meleth. "Where were you? You missed the toast!" 

"I was talking to Tuor outside," I said again.

"Uh-huh," said Dinniel, raising one eyebrow. "Come on, let's go get some food and talk." She grabbed Meleth's and my arms and pulled us in the direction of the food table.

"_Dinniel_!" whined Meleth. "Do you _have _to drag us everywhere? We'll come with you even if you don't pull us, you know."

Dinniel let go and grinned apologetically. "Sorry. I can be kind of forceful sometimes."

"That's okay, we love you anyway," I said. "But please, enough with the dragging."

Finally we reached our destination, where we got some cake and wine, and from there went to a corner of the room to gossip.

"So you'll never guess who _I _danced with," said Meleth, eyes sparkling. 

"Who?" I asked eagerly.

"Glorfindel." 

"Oh, big deal," said Dinniel dismissively. "I danced with him too. He dances with everyone."

"Well, he's _never_danced with me before, and I go to a ton of parties that he's at," said Meleth. "I always figured he thought I was kind of boring. But he was really, really nice! _And _he said I was pretty!"

"It's the dress," I said. "You look great in that thing."

"In your old clothes you just kind of blended in with the scenery," said Dinniel. "Almost as bad as Idril." 

"Hey, that's not nice," I protested.

"I know, you're right," said Meleth. "It wasn't fair to me. Anyway, Idril, did you know that your lip rouge is kind of smeared?"

"Yeah." Dinniel smirked. "Are you sure that you were just _talking _to Tuor out on the balcony?"

"Um…" I said, smiling guiltily. "Not really."

They both quiet-screamed and started asking me what had happened, what I'd said, what he'd said, were we planning on getting married, what would Maeglin's reaction to this be?

"Hold it, hold it!" I said. "One question at a time, people. No, I don't plan on getting married any time soon, and I hope that Maeglin won't find out about this for a while at least because if he founds out that I kissed a guy who wasn't him there'll be trouble. As for everything else, I promise I'll give you details after the party, okay?"

"Well, that works for me, but Dinniel doesn't live with us anymore," said Meleth. "Doesn't she have to go home after this?"

"No problem," said Dinniel. "I'll just tell Enerdhil I'm going over to you guys' house after the party. He won't mind."

"I think you're starting to neglect him," Meleth teased.

"I am _not_. Do you guys think I'm going to completely drop you guys just because I'm married? Seriously, I love, love, love Enerdhil, but I love you guys _almost_ as much."

"Aw, you're sweet," I said. "And I love you _almost _as much as I love Tuor."

"And I love you guys more than anyone, because I'm not in love with any guys!" said Meleth.

"Don't worry, you will be," I assured her. "But a word of advice: Do not, under any circumstances, imitate my approach to it. I admit it; I suck at being in love."

"No offense, Idril, but that last sentence was kind of a dumb thing to say," said Dinniel. "You _suck at being in love_? I don't think that being in love is the kind of thing you're good at or bad it."

"Yeah, I thought that too, until I realized that I sucked at being in love," I said. "But enough of this. I made Tuor promise he'd dance with me, and I have to go find him.""You convinced Tuor to dance at a party?" said Meleth. "Wow, he must really be in love with you."

"He is," I said. "Bye!"

I met up with Tuor just as the musicians started playing one of my favorite slow songs. Now _that _is destiny. Or a very funny coincidence, or possibly nothing; you decide.

"Okay, you've got to promise not to make fun of me if I suck," said Tuor, putting one hand on my waist.

"I'm not going to promise any such thing," I said. "However, seeing as I'm sure you won't suck, you don't have anything to worry about."

"Your confidence is inspiring, and also unjustified."

"Now, how did an uneducated mortal outlaw raised by peasants and forced to work for Easterlings learn words like that?"

"Hey, I never said I was uneducated," objected Tuor. "Uncle Annael and Loswen were smart people. Just because I never had a ton of fancy-pants tutors like you doesn't mean I couldn't have an education.""Actually, Dad never bothered much about my learning," I said glumly. "He made sure I knew everything a proper, aristocratic girl was supposed to know—which isn't much—and left it there. It's only thanks to my wonderful Aunt Aredhel and our extremely large library that I'm the smart girl I am today."

"Your dad doesn't really think much of you, does he."

"Well, I don't doubt that he loves me, but he's always underestimated me somewhat." I sighed and shook my head. "Let's talk about something else. I've always wondered—what did you used to _do_on New Year's Eve? I don't know anyone else who doesn't go to some kind of party."

"Usually I just hang out with Voronwe and get drunk and play cards. Never figured I was missing much by not going anywhere." He smiled. "So much for that theory." 

"Amen. Oh, and guess what?"

"What?"

"The song's over. You didn't suck."

"Wow."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The party finally ended around three o'clock in the morning, and as promised, Dinniel and Meleth and I all went back to my room and talked the events of the night over in vivid detail. I was so happy that it was hard to be tired, even after my friends had fallen asleep and I had no one to talk to, so instead of lying down I picked up a piece of paper and started writing. 

Dear Aunt Aredhel,

Usually, you'll have noticed, I write to you to complain. My cousin is in love with me. My dad ignores me. I'm in love with my best friend. The city is doomed. Dinniel got married and I don't see her as often anymore. Blah, blah, blah.

_But guess what? This time I'm _not _writing to complain. Actually, I have some very exciting news. _

_I FINALLY TOLD TUOR THAT I LOVE HIM!_

_Aren't you proud of me? It was a total impulse thing. He asked me if I had any New Year's resolutions and I told him I did, and he asked what they were and I just kissed him. Totally let down my guard. After all, I know that's what you'd want._

_You know, I used to think love sucked, but I guess that isn't really true. It only sucks when it's unrequited. Or when you're married to a jerk like you were (no offense, but it's true)._

_This has been the best night of my life!_

_Well, say hi to everyone, and tell Mom that her daughter's finally being less of a prude. She'll like that._

_Happy New Year!_

_Love, _

_Idril_

_PS: Oh, I think Meleth might like Glorfindel. Wouldn't they be a cute couple? But is she really his type?_


	26. Poor Maeglin

**Chapter 26: Poor Maeglin**

"**If it ain't broke, don't fix it."**

**-Anonymous**

"Tuor," I said gravely, "what would you say if I told you that for a while when I was younger I wasn't pretty at all?"

"Well, I'd certainly be surprised," said Tuor. "And I'd also ask you to elaborate."

"Okay, then. Back when I was a teenager, up until I came of age, really, I was awkward, super-skinny, and kind of ugly, actually. Which is why there's no portrait of me during that time. Dad says I was a pretty toddler, though."

"Interesting," said Tuor, stroking his chin. "So is that why you don't care about being attractive? Because you know what it's like to _not_be?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I replied. "You know, it's funny. Usually when I tell people that I used to not be beautiful, they're like 'Well, you definitely are now.' I mean, hello? _Obviously _I'm not ugly now! That's why I said I _used _to be!"

"People are stupid," said Tuor. "Except you, of course."

"Thank you," I said, tossing my hair. "I have to get back home now—Dad hates it when I'm late for supper."

"He told me that he wasn't strict about punctuality," said Tuor, smirking.

"He said that because he was trying to make a good impression on you," I said. "He's quite smooth, is my dad."

"Why would he bother trying to make a good impression on _me_?"

"Who wouldn't?" I asked seductively, smoothing down his hair. "I know _I _wanted to."

Tuor laughed. "I see you've inherited your dad's smoothness. Well, if you've got to go to dinner then you may as well go. I'll see you tomorrow." He kissed me quickly and departed, leaving me alone in the courtyard. By now it was late spring, and I'd never seen the city so beautiful. This was probably because I was now a lovestruck semi-normal girl instead of a cynical, pessimistic politician, but nevertheless, the gardens were in full blooms, the weather was perfect, and I was perfectly happy.

Yes. Again. You'd think I'd learn.

After a few moments of enjoying the perfect-ness of everything, I ran like heck inside, where Dad and Maeglin were waiting for me at the supper table. Dad raised an eyebrow at me as I sat down.

"Late again, I see," he remarked. "You know, Idril, you have been late much more often for the past few months. Is there something going on that I should know about?"

"Um, no," I said innocently. I was _not _about to tell him that I was late all the time because I now had a sort-of boyfriend. That wasn't information that I wanted to be publicly known.

"Anyway, isn't the weather lovely these days?" I continued.

"Yes, the city is doing _extremely _well," said Maeglin. "I can't believe that anyone could think that we're doomed." He looked at me pointedly when he said this. I rolled my eyes.

"Of course, it never hurts to be cautious," said Dad. "That's why I've increased the defense around our walls somewhat. We need to be prepared for whatever happens."

"That's better than nothing, I guess," I said. "But still, don't you think that the God of the Sea knows what he's talking about? If he said we should leave, then we probably should have."

"Please, Iluvatar, not this again," groaned Maeglin. "Idril, we all know your opinion, but we're not going back on our decision. It's too late to leave now. _Get over it._"

Gods, he made me mad. But I was sick of getting into this argument all the time, so I just sighed and said "Whatever."

"I wish we could have a meal once in a while that doesn't end in you two fighting," said Dad. "Maeglin, what has been wrong with you lately? You've been in a snit since January."

Since January? Uh-oh…

"I'm fine," said Maeglin sharply. He went back to eating as fast as he could, and set down his fork about ten seconds later. "Excuse me." My cousin stood up and stormed out of the room.

"Hey, Dad, can I be excused too?" I asked. "I think I need to go talk to Maeglin. Maybe I can figure out what's going on with him."

"Go on, go on," said Dad. "And good luck."

I stood up from my chair and followed Maeglin out into the hallway. He was standing in front of the Graffiti Wall with his back to me, in the exact same position Tuor had been just before I'd had my first real conversation with him. That seemed like ages ago…But enough reminiscing. I had business here.

"Maeglin," I said. "We need to talk."

He turned around. "Hello, Idril."

"Enough with the pleasantries already. Something's up with you. You've been acting like even more of a jerk lately, and that's saying a lot. What's going on?"

"What's going on?" Maeglin looked me in the eye furiously. "What's going _on_? That filthy, arrogant mortal has had his hands all over you for months and you're letting him get away with it. For heaven's sakes, don't you have any pride?"

"What's pride got to do with it?" I said. "I love Tuor. I don't care that he's a mortal, or that he's from a poor family, or that he doesn't have good grammar or nice clothes. He's the only person I could ever love."

"He's not good enough for you," Maeglin said. "You're way out of his league, and you know it. Why can't you fall in love with someone who_deserves _you?"

"Oh, like you?" I snapped. "Like you're so perfect, just because you happen to be of the same species as me and you're of about the same social standing? What makes you think that you deserve me because of _that_?"

"He'll never be able to love you like I could."

"I don't want your love," I said. "I don't want you, Maeglin. And I never will."

"Is this the cousins thing again?" Maeglin demanded. "We're royalty, you know. It would be fairly easy to get around that."

"No, it's not that. You're just not my type, Maeglin. We're not meant for each other. I'm sure you could eventually find someone very nice if you stopped obsessing over me."

Maeglin shook his head. "No, I couldn't. I'll always love you, Idril, no matter what."

"Then I guess you're going to be disappointed all you life," I said quietly, turning to leave. "Because I'll never love you, no matter what."

"Wait, Idril. One question."

I looked back over my shoulder. "Yeah?"

"What is it about Tuor that you find so irresistible?"

"He's not polite to me," I said, smiling wickedly. "Not at all."

Now that must have stung, hearing me use the same words to describe Tuor that I'd also used to describe Maeglin's father. But as I walked away, I felt more proud than guilty.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In a rare show of un-Maeglin-ness, my dear cousin refrained from telling Dad about my relationship with Tuor. Why this was, I couldn't tell you. Maybe he realized that if he told Dad anything, not only would he lose all chance of my ever having any affection for him, but I'd probably kill him as well.

Well, I probably wouldn't have gone that far. But I'd have been ticked off, you can be sure of that.

My friends couldn't understand at all why I was so insistent about Dad knowing nothing, as Dinniel proved when Meleth and I were over at her house (yes, she had a house now. Just as I'd predicted, she and Enerdhil had finally gotten the money together to buy a small cottage by the palace) for lunch the day after my conversation with Maeglin. Enerdhil was off working, so we had the place to ourselves.

"He probably wouldn't be mad at you," said Dinniel. "If anything, he'd be pleased. Didn't he say that he wanted to see you happily married?"

"It's not that I think he'd be mad," I said. "It's more of a pride thing. I told Dad straight out that I'd never fall in love or get married. He'd never let me forget it if I changed my mind."

"I don't think that's true," said Meleth quietly. "I think he'd just be really happy that you've found someone so perfect for you. Your dad's not a bad guy, Idril. He's kind of stubborn and old-fashioned, and he makes some dumb decisions sometimes, but he really cares about Gondolin, and especially you."

I looked at her, surprised. "Wow, Meleth. I think you know more about my dad that I do."

"Well, you're not the only smart one around here, you know," said Meleth. "So when_are _you going to tell your dad about Tuor?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "Not for a while yet, at least. Maybe I'll just let him find out for himself. Wouldn't you just love to see the look on his face?"

"Yeah, it'd be hilarious," said Dinniel. "But let's get back to our original conversation. Did Maeglin really freak out that badly?"

"Totally. I actually feel sorry for the poor guy. I mean, he really likes me, and I can't possibly like him back. I can't even feel any kind of warmth toward him. If he wasn't so creepy, maybe I could actually love him as my cousin."

"Your family is so complicated," Meleth sighed. "I'm so glad that my cousins are all girls."

"Yes, yes, rub it in," I said, smiling and rolling my eyes. "My family's weird; yours is normal. Your dad respects what intelligence you have; my dad is barely aware of my intelligence. You guys are both way luckier than me. I get it!"

"But you have better hair than us," said Dinniel. "So it balances out."

Thank the Gods for my friends.


	27. The King's Consent

_**For those of you keeping score at home, this is the **_**third **_**time I've used a Groucho Marx quote to begin a chapter. Sorry, but the guy's got some pretty funny quotes!**_

**Chapter 27: The King's Consent**

"**I wasn't kissing her. I was whispering in her mouth."**

**-Groucho Marx**

So time passed, and nothing much changed. Maeglin brooded, I gossiped with my friends and made out with Tuor when no one was around, and Dad remained completely ignorant as to what on earth was going on with all of us young people. Gotta love parents. Although I did occasionally wonder when exactly I was going to tell Dad that I loved Tuor and that I wanted to marry him.

Yes, I admit it. I did want to marry Tuor. I know I'd always said that love sucked and marriage was stupid, but now that I was in love it didn't suck that much, so marriage would probably be okay too. Plus, I was getting kind of sick of pretending not to be in love with Tuor and then just kissing occasionally in private. I don't like having to keep secrets for long periods of time; it's kind of annoying.

I tried to talk to Tuor about this whole thing, but he wasn't very much help. Apparently, since he'd been an outlaw for four years, he was used to being sneaky and keeping secrets didn't bother him as much.

"I kind of like things this way," he said. "If we keep all this a secret, then we don't have to worry about your dad getting ticked off at me, or people gossiping about us, or any of that crud. All we have to worry about is Maeglin killing me, and that seems kind of excessive, even for him."

"But aren't you tired of sneaking around?" I asked. "I hate being all polite and friendly to you in public. It feels so fake."  
"Well, there's nothing polite, friendly, or fake about _this_," said Tuor huskily, leaning forward and kissing me passionately (thus leaving me completely unable to argue—I think he may have done that on purpose). Therefore, I was basically stuck as far as what to do about telling Dad. Seriously, I loved Tuor, but he could be kind of, well, annoying sometimes. Then again, what did I expect? He was a guy.

Now, I'm going to spoil the surprise right now and say that my dad _did _eventually find out about Tuor and me, and it was fairly embarrassing but turned out quite well. This is what happened.

Dad wasn't around at the moment—he was in some big meeting that I didn't want to go to and wouldn't have been welcome at anyway—so I decided to be evil and have Tuor over to visit. It was my friends' idea, anyway. They kept saying that I needed to spend more quality time alone with my boyfriend. Blame them.

"So your dad's not home?" asked Tuor, sitting down. We were in the sitting room, since it was starting to get cold outside again and there was a fire there.

"Of course not," I said. "Well, he's home, but he's tied up in a meeting and won't be out for hours. Do you think I'd dare to have you over if I didn't think we'd have complete privacy?"

"You might," said Tuor. "I don't pretend to understand you."

"Shut up," I said, slapping him lightly. "Which reminds me, there's something I wanted to talk to you about. You, my friend, are a disgrace to Gondolin."

"Hey!" complained Tuor. "Aren't you supposed to be in love with me or something?"

"I _am_ in love with you. That's why I'm pointing this out. You just sit around in your house all the time and never do anything. If you don't get out and about more often, people are going to start thinking you're a jerk or that you're crazy or something. Trust me; I've seen it happen before. In this city, you have to be sociable."

"Well, thank you for the advice. I'll be sure to remember that," said Tuor. "Did you invite me here just to yell at me about how I'm not sociable enough?"

"Not really. And I _wasn't _yelling at you. I was just telling the truth."

"You know, Idril," said Tuor, grinning and leaning towards me, "you really talk too much."

"See, Tuor," I whispered as he slowly unbraided my hair, "if we were married, we could do this all the time without worrying about being found out."

"I know, I know," he replied, kissing me on the neck. "But do we have to argue right now? Can't we just enjoy this?"

"I'll try to," I said. "But it'll be hard, you know. My friends say it's impossible for me to stop thinking."

"They're right," whispered Tuor. "But I think I can help you with that."

The next fifteen minutes or so were spent with very little talking/thinking and a lot of very intense kissing, during which things got _much _less cold in the sitting room. Now _this_, I was thinking, is proof that love does not actually suck after all but is, in fact, quite enjoyable.

"What on earth is going on here?"

Then again…

I disentangled myself from Tuor's arms and looked up, not exactly surprised to see my dad standing in front of the couch frowning at us. Just my luck.

"Well?" said Dad, looking from me to Tuor and back again. Obviously he expected an answer, and for once in my life I didn't have one.

"Um," I said. "Well…"

Fortunately, I was saved from having to actually say anything by Tuor, who stood up and said, "Your Majesty, I love your daughter and I want to marry her."

Was there ever a better boyfriend? Seriously. I doubt it.

"You what?" said a very shocked-looking Dad.

"You what?" I said, because honestly, while I was incredibly glad that he'd had the guts to tell my dad that, I hadn't thought he really wanted to marry me. At least anytime soon.

"I. Want. To. Marry. Idril," said Tuor slowly. "Am I really that hard to understand? 'Cause I thought my grammar had been improving lately."

"We both heard you," I said. "We're just surprised. Right, Dad?"

"Very much so," said Dad. "For several reasons. First of all, I had no idea that you two were…together, as such. And second of all, Idril, I thought you were completely opposed to the idea of romance."

"I used to be," I said. "But that was before I met Tuor."

Dad smiled. "Well, well. I always did think…" He shook his head and changed the subject. "So, Tuor. Getting back to the original topic, you want to marry my daughter."

"Yeah, if she wants to," said Tuor.

"Why?"

_Why_? What reason could Dad possibly have for asking a guy _why _he wanted to marry me? I thought Dad just wanted me to get married. But I guess that this way, he could be absolutely certain that Tuor didn't just like me for my looks—wow, Meleth was right. I did underestimate my father.

"Idril is the coolest, smartest, most beautiful girl I've ever met," said Tuor calmly. "I couldn't possibly be happy with anyone else."

Aw, how sweet. The answer seemed to please Dad as well, because he smiled and nodded. "I just want you to know, Tuor, that Idril is my only child and I value her very highly, and I want to know she'll be well taken care of. Can you promise me that?"

"Right-o," Tuor replied, sounding like his dad.

"All right then," said Dad. "In that case, if you want her, you can have her."

"That is _so _anti-feminist!" I said, or at least started to say. Tuor grabbed me and kissed me before I really had a chance to finish the sentence.

And that is how I got engaged and broke the most important promise I'd ever made in my life. Good for me, huh?

_**Yes, this is a very short chapter. But it was fun anyway, admit it. : )**_


	28. Matchmaker

_**Thanks everyone for the reviews! Here's a fairly long chapter to make up for the shortness of the last one, in which I get sick of Meleth being single and introduce a love interest for her.**_

**Chapter 28: Matchmaker**

"**We all want something else"**

**-Good Charlotte**

So I was engaged, and Dinniel was married. That left Meleth the only single girl in our group. And don't think we didn't hear about it, either.

"You guys are both so lucky," she whined. "No guys _ever _notice me. I wish I had a guy as nice as Enerdhil or as cool as Tuor."

"Hey, being in a relationship has its low points," I said. "Try having your dad find you and your boyfriend making out in the sitting room."

"Or try not being able to flirt with anyone, no matter how badly you want to," Dinniel put in.

"Dinniel!" I reprimanded.

"Hey, I'm just kidding," said Dinniel. She frowned. "Mostly…"

"But seriously, Meleth, I'm sure that you could find a great guy if you put your mind to it," I said. "Is there any particular guy that you think is cute? Because we could try to set you up with him if there is."

"Um…" Meleth looked like she was about to say something, but stopped and shook her head. "No, there isn't anyone."

"Reeallly," said Dinniel skeptically. "I find that rather hard to believe."

"Look, I just don't want to talk about this right now, okay?" said Meleth fiercely. "It's really my business anyway."

"Of course it is," I said, trying to keep the peace. "We won't bug you about it anymore, Meleth. It's just that, you seem to really want a boyfriend…"

"Whatever," said Meleth. "It's not a big deal." She stood up. "I have to go now. Mom wanted me to have dinner at home tonight, and I promised her I would."

Meleth left the room. Dinniel turned to me.

"Well, Idril," she said, "looks like we've got our work cut out for us."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Duh!" said Dinniel. "We have to find out who Meleth likes! Sheesh, Idril, I thought you were supposed to be brilliant."

"I'm brilliant in that I can multiply three-digit numbers in my head. I'm not brilliant in that I can automatically know whenever you get another random idea. Why do we have to figure out who she likes, anyway?"

Dinniel slapped herself on the forehead. "_Idril_! Have you _seen _how she's been acting lately? That girl is depressed. And I know from studying various people—including you—that depression is one of the sure signs of lovesickness."

"Hmm," I said. "Interesting. So how do we figure out who she likes?"

"Well, first of all, we need to make a list of potential guys," said Dinniel. "Then we narrow down the possibilities."

"How often have you done this, exactly?" I asked her.

"Lots of times," said Dinniel nonchalantly. "I've got to do something to fill up the days, after all. Okay, so we need to think of every guy Meleth's ever danced with, called cute, or otherwise could possibly be interested in."

"Well, didn't she once say Ecthelion was funny?" I said. "And he's kind of cute, too."

"Yeah, but he seems too artsy for Meleth," said Dinniel. "Plus, she doesn't really like guys with brown hair."

"Right," I said. I hadn't been aware of this previously. "So what kind of guys _does_she like?"

Dinniel looked up at the ceiling, like she was asking why on earth she'd been cursed with a friend as clueless as I was. "Gods, Idril, she's one of your best friends! Shouldn't you know this by now?"

"Dinniel, I've spend a good portion of my life claiming that guys were stupid and that I hated all of them. How on earth would I know all of Meleth's romantic preferences?"

"Never mind," said Dinniel, shaking her head. "Here, we'd better write this down."

So, according to Dinniel's list, Meleth liked guys who had:

A good sense of humor

Blonde or black hair

Plenty of money

Good fashion sense

At least slightly above-average intelligence

A lot of friends

Well, that narrowed things down a bit. Now we just had to figure out potential crushes that fit that description.

"She could like Maeglin," said Dinniel.

"Oh, Gods, I hope you're joking," I said. "I would absolutely die if she had a crush on my cousin."

"Well, it's not likely, but we can't completely rule him out. He has black hair, nice clothes, and a lot of money, and you can't deny that he's smart."

"But he doesn't have a good sense of humor or a lot of friends. He's not an option."

"Okay, then, no Maeglin," said Dinniel. "Hey, didn't she once dance say that Duilin guy was pretty cool?"

"He has a girlfriend," I reminded her. "Plus, he's not exactly that smart."

"Okay, we'll put him on the maybe list," said Dinniel. "Who else is a possibility?"

We spent most of that afternoon making a list of guys who fit most of Meleth's criteria and who she could possibly have a crush on. It wasn't easy work. After all, there were a lot of guys in Gondolin, and she hadn't given us a lot of clues. And it wasn't like we could ask her for any. This finding-out-who-Meleth-liked-behind-her-back business was a lot harder than I'd thought it would be.

"Okay, so we've got, like, twenty guys here, and none of them seems to be exactly the sort Meleth would like," said an exhausted Dinniel about two and a half hours later. "Is there anyone we've missed?"

I thought for a moment, trying to think if there was anyone else in Gondolin Meleth could potentially like, and then snapped my fingers. "Hold on, that's it! Why didn't we think of that before?"

"What? What?" asked Dinniel excitedly.

"Glorfindel. She likes Glorfindel."

"Really," said Dinniel, raising one eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"

"Come on, Dinniel, look at what we've got here. Glorfindel's rich, he's got nice clothes, he's funny, he's popular, and he's smart, not to mention that he has blonde hair. He fits the description of Meleth's ideal guy _exactly_. Plus, she danced with him at that New Year's Eve party and was really excited about it. What more proof do you need?"

"You," said Dinniel slowly, "may be on to something there. So now I guess we have to figure out how to get them together."

"You figure that out," I said. "I've been smart enough for one day."

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Our plan was simple, and a bit exploitative: I'd go sit down with Meleth in the courtyard and have a heart-to-heart girl talk with her, hoping that she'd spill about her crush on Glorfindel. Dinniel would, meanwhile, get Glorfindel to come to said courtyard by saying that I had to talk to him about something. If our timing was right and if all went well, then Glorfindel would arrive just in time to hear Meleth confess to me that she loved him. He'd say if he felt the same way or not, and everything would be neatly sorted out.

Hopefully.

Because there was no point in postponement, we decided to set our plan in motion the next day. At around 7:00 in the evening I found Meleth and told her that I needed to talk to her in the courtyard _right now_.

"Why?" she asked.

"I'll explain when we get there. Come on, this is important."

So outside we went, and I sat Meleth down on a bench and asked her straight out what was up with her.

"You're always so depressed these days," I said. "And Dinniel and I are getting kind of worried about you."

"I told you, everything's fine!" said Meleth. "Why do you keep asking me what's wrong with me?"

"Meleth," I said, "you know perfectly well that you don't have to tell me anything. I respect your privacy. But we've been friends for centuries; you can tell me if there's anything going on."

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I promise," I said, feeling a bit guilty but rationalizing that I wasn't technically going to _tell _anyone. I'd just arranged it so that someone would overhear her.

"Well, okay," Meleth said finally, after a long pause. "There's this guy that…I kind of like."

"Huh," I said, incredibly relieved that Dinniel and I hadn't been barking up the wrong tree all along. "I thought that might be it. Who?"

"Um…" Meleth looked down at her feet. "Glorfindel."

_Yes_! We'd been right in that too! I was a genius!

"I've liked him after since that New Year's Eve party—you know, the one you made out with Tuor at?" Meleth continued. "Seriously, he's just so cool and funny and sweet, not to mention seriously hot. And I know he's way too good for me and I know that half the other girls in Gondolin like him, but, well, love is stupid, you know?"

"That," said a guy's voice, "was quite a speech."

Meleth and I looked up to see Glorfindel and a very excited-looking Dinniel standing by us. I was excited as well; Meleth appeared to be horrified (not that I could blame her).

"What's going _on_?" she asked.

"I don't really know," said Glorfindel. "All I know is that Dinniel told me that Idril needed to talk to me, so I came over here and then we overheard you guys talking, and…well. Yeah."

"Idril! Dinniel!" cried Meleth. "Did you guys plan this whole thing?"

"Uh…kind of," said Dinniel, smiling guiltily. "Did it work?"

"I suppose that depends on what you were trying to accomplish," said Glorfindel.

"We were trying to get her to admit that she liked you in your hearing," I said. "And also, to get you to tell her what you thought of her."

"So if you take care of the second bit, then yes, this will have worked," finished Dinniel.

"Well, in that case," said Glorfindel, "Meleth, I think you're an incredibly cool girl and I like you a ton. How's that?"

"Depends," said Meleth. "Do you like me as a friend, or a girlfriend?"

Glorfindel grinned. "How do you think?"

Meleth screamed, jumped up, and threw her arms around his neck. Before anything interesting could happen, though, she looked over at Dinniel and me and told us we could go now.

"Okay," I said, "but remember, you owe us."

"You owe us _big_," said Dinniel.

"They're right, you know. You owe them," said Glorfindel.

"Yes, yes, I get it, I owe them," said Meleth. "But that doesn't mean that they get to hang around here keeping an eye on me! I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thanks!"

Dinniel and I quickly left, heartily congratulating ourselves on our ability to get people to tell their most intimate secrets. Now _that _was a useful talent.


	29. Royal Wedding

**Chapter 29: Royal Wedding**

"**What happened to Miss Independent?"**

**-Kelly Clarkson**

As per my request, we didn't have a big party the night before my wedding like we did for Dinniel. Rather, my two best friends and I basically just sat up the whole night talking. (So yeah, it was pretty much like Dinniel's party, except there were fewer people and less wine).

"This just feels so weird," I said. "I mean, for heaven's sakes, I'm getting_married_! How did this happen?"

"Temporary insanity?" Meleth suggested.

"Meleth," said Dinniel. "Not helping."

"Right. Sorry."

"It's okay, you guys, I'm not going to back out or anything," I assured them. "I'm just a little freaked out. Getting married is way out of character for me."

"Don't worry, honey, you'll be fine," said Dinniel, patting me on the shoulder. "Look at me. I've been married for years now, and am I any different?"

"Unfortunately, no," said Meleth. Dinniel whacked her with one of my pillows.

"I suppose I should consider myself lucky," I said, ignoring my friends. "I've found someone who I really love and who I'm fairly sure will treat me like an equal, and he loves me back, so that's good. I just wonder—what would Aunt Aredhel think?"

"_I _know what she'd think," said Meleth. "She'd be proud of you for having the guts to tell the guy you love how you feel about him and not being afraid to make a commitment to him, and she'd also probably be pleased that you have _way _better taste in men than she did."

Dinniel laughed. "Right on. What was with that husband of hers? Idril, you're the only one of us to ever talk to Eol; what was your impression of him?"

"Crazy, cynical, and seriously pissed off," I replied. "But I suppose Aunt Aredhel must have seen _something_ in him, or she wouldn't have stayed with him all those years."

"Yeah, I think I know what she saw in him," said Dinniel wickedly. "And it wasn't his personality, you can bet your last earring."

"You've got a dirty mind, Dinniel," said Meleth. "Is that why Enerdhil still puts up with you?"

"Enough, you guys!" I said. "This is my last night as an innocent single girl. I want to enjoy that, thanks."

"You haven't been single for ages, Idril," Meleth pointed out. "What were all those years of hanging out with Tuor behind your dad's back?"

"And judging from what I've heard about how you and Tuor got engaged, you ain't too innocent either," giggled Dinniel.

"Okay, shut up now, I mean it! What time is it, anyway? One o'clock? That's it, I'm going to sleep. I have to get up in six hours and I need _rest_!"

Thus ended my last full day as an unmarried woman.

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Of course, I did have a few hours as an unmarried woman the next day, most of which were spent getting dressed (complicated), getting my hair done (simple, since Tuor had made me promise not to braid or do anything with my hair because he thought that was hot), helping Dinniel and Meleth get dressed/get their hair done (very, very complicated), and smelling a lot of extremely delicious food that I was too nervous to be hungry for and couldn't eat anyway because I couldn't get my dress dirty (torturous). I was glad that getting married was usually a once-in-a-lifetime type of deal, since this whole thing was very, very stressful.

At least my dress was pretty. Dinniel, master seamstress that she was, had made it, and I had to say that she knew her stuff. The dress was a low-cut wraparound thing, made of filmy white cloth that left slightly less to the imagination than I would have liked.

"My dad will freak if I wear this to my wedding," I'd told her when I'd first seen it.

"Who cares about that old stick-in-the-mud? Tuor's going to _looove_ you in this," she'd replied. And, knowing how Tuor's (and most other guys') mind worked, I agreed with her that he probably would.

So here I was, standing in front of the mirror in my white dress which I _could not get dirty under any circumstances_, with my hair left loose and combed super-straight like it'd been at the party where I first kissed Tuor, and I was, for about the tenth time in my life, scared. Yep. I wasn't scared to talk to Eol after he'd killed my aunt and I wasn't even that scared while Dad was away at war, but I was terrified of getting married to someone who I knew loved me. I can be_so _pathetic.

"You're freaked out, aren't you," said Dinniel. "I can totally tell."

"Don't worry, sweetie," said Meleth kindly. "What could go wrong? Well, a lot, I guess, but that's beside the point. The point is that it _won't_. You're going to be fine. And if you're not, then at least we can still eat a ton of good food."

"It doesn't seem like that long ago when you guys were giving me my pre-wedding pep talk," Dinniel reminisced. "I suppose we'll be giving you one soon, Meleth."

Meleth giggled. "Oh, I don't know about that. Glorfindel and I haven't even talked about getting married yet."

"Better hurry up, girlfriend," I advised. "A popular guy like him is bound to have a girl on the side—if not now, then eventually."

"Oh my gosh, you think so?" said Meleth, looking horrified.

"No, of course not. I was just trying to pawn off some of my fear on you, and it looks like it worked. Now, I suppose we should be getting downstairs. Best to get this over with as soon as possible."

"I love her," I heard Dinniel say behind me to Meleth as we left my room. "She's so enthusiastic."

Dad met us downstairs, and smiled when he saw me in my dress. "Ah, you're ready. Girls, can you excuse Idril and me for a moment?"

"Sure," said Dinniel. "Come on, Meleth." Before she left the room, she turned to me and mouthed "_You have got to tell us everything he said later_."

"So…what's up, Dad?" I said, fiddling nervously with my lucky necklace. It had been a while since I'd had a private talk with Dad, and I was a little nervous about what he was going to say.

He sighed. "Turn around, would you?"

I spun around, liking how my skirt flared out around me. This dress _rocked_.

"You look beautiful," said Dad. "So much like your mother…you remind me more of her every day."

"You know, Dad, I'm a lot more like you than you think," I said. "Yeah, I look like Mom, but I'm smart and stubborn like you. Plus, I have your eyes."

"What, you think you got all your brains from me?" said Dad. "Let me tell you, young lady, your mother was one of the cleverest women I've ever met. She was just more people-smart than book-smart. Me, I was always a bit bookish, and, as my siblings and cousins used to call me, a 'geek'. Looks to me like you've inherited the best of both worlds."

"Wow, Dad," I said softly, starting to tear up a bit. "That may be the nicest thing you've ever said about me."

"Well, it's true. I know I haven't always been the best of fathers—and I will admit, I did neglect you a bit during your awkward period—but I always have and always will love you more than anything else. More than myself, more than my money, more than Gondolin itself."

"More than Maeglin?" I asked.

"I suppose so, seeing as he's my nephew and you're my daughter." Dad hugged me. "It's so hard to believe you're getting married already. At least I know that Tuor will treat you right."

"Hey, Dad, I have one last question for you, and you have to promise to answer it honestly," I said, pulling away. "Did you know that something was going on between Tuor and me?"

He smiled guiltily. "Maybe a bit. I noticed that there was some strong chemistry between you from the start, so I figured I'd just sit back and see how it went. As it turned out, that was the best route for me to take."

"Yeah, I probably wouldn't be here now wearing this dress and more makeup than I've ever worn in my life if you'd been constantly pushing me to get together with Tuor." I hugged him again. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too." We stood there hugging for a while, until finally Dad stood back and smoothed down the front of his robe. "Well, I suppose we'd better get going."

"I suppose we'd better," I agreed. "What would Tuor say if I was late for my own wedding because I was talking to my dad?"

"He'd probably pleased that you're actually talking to me instead of yelling at me," said Dad. "But nevertheless, let's be on our way. Time waits for no one—not even the King of Gondolin."

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I had a few seconds to talk to Tuor before the ceremony began. Technically, I wasn't_supposed _to be talking to him, as it was tradition that the couple didn't get to say two words to each other until the whole deal was over, but to heck with that. Since when do I respect dumb old rules? (Except the whole you-can't-marry-your-cousin deal, but that one actually wasn't all that stupid).

"Okay, then, this is it," I said. "In an hour we'll be married."

"This'll take an_hour_?" said Tuor. "Dang. I'm hungry, and I haven't gotten to eat all day because everyone's scared I'll get these stupid clothes dirty."

"Trust me, I feel your pain," I said. "After today I'm never wearing this dress again."

"That is some dress, though," said Tuor, looking me up and down. He leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I can't wait to get you out of it."

Bad girl that I am, I grinned and didn't slap him.

Our little semi-romantic moment was interrupted by Dinniel, who appeared and pulled me away, smiling apologetically at Tuor as she did so. "Sorry, loverboy, but we can't have you guys all over each other before the ceremony's even begun. You can make out later."

"'Course," said Tuor, nodding. "See you later, Idril."

"See ya," I said, following Dinniel towards where I was supposed to be.

"Still nervous?" she asked me devilishly.

"A little," I admitted. "But not nearly as much as I was before."

"That's my girl," said Dinniel. "Nothing like a quick rendezvous with the fiancé to lift your spirits. Okay, you ready to do this?"

"As ready as I'm ever going to be," I said. "Looks like I don't have much of a choice."

The ceremony went by in a blur, but I was pretty sure that nobody made any mistakes because within forty-five minutes or so Tuor was kissing me and everybody was cheering. And that was it. I was married.

To be honest, I didn't feel much different. Except that I was now even hungrier. Tuor seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"Thank the Gods that's over," he muttered. "I mean, no offense, Idril, but I seriously need some grub."

"I agree with you there," I said. "Well, looks like they've got quite a feat laid out—shall we enjoy our first meal as a married couple?"

Tuor slipped an arm around my waist. "I thought you'd never ask."

As we sat down by Dad and dug into the truly delicious food, I could feel Maeglin looking at me angrily from across the table.


	30. Life as a Wife

_**Woo-hoo (as Homer Simpson would say), people liked my wedding chapter! I'd like to thank Klose again for pointing out my little errors (hey, I'm young, I can always use improvement). **_

_**So anyhoo, here's another one of my fairly short chapters, in which Idril gets used to being married. Enjoy!**_

**Chapter 30: Life as a Wife**

"**Please, Iluvatar, save me from the curse of being an old married woman."**

**-Galadriel daughter of Finarfin**

"Well," said Tuor the next morning, smiling at me. "Still think that marriage sucks?"

"Of course not," I murmured. "I never would have married you in the first place if I'd thought that it would totally suck. But there are certain perks that I hadn't previously considered…"

"So, some wedding, huh?"

"Yes, except there wasn't a drunk uncle. I've been to a few weddings before, and there was a drunk uncle at _all _of them. It's just not a wedding without one."

"One of the curses of having no or very few living relatives, I suppose. But Voronwe got a bit tipsy, so we could have him be our honorary drunk uncle."

"Did you see Iavas with their new baby? _So _cute. What did they decide to name him?"

"Ilverin, I think. Wait a minute, why are we talking about Voronwe and Iavas' baby on our wedding morning? That's probably the dumbest thing I've ever heard of."

"Okay, then, what do you want to talk about?"

"How about nothing? I think we can find things to do other than talk." He sighed. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

"Of course I know it," I laughed. "Haven't people been telling me so for years? Actually, for a good long while I used to take that as an insult."

"That seems like something you'd do."

"Gee, thanks. Anyway, I thought we weren't supposed to be talking."

"Right, right." Tuor shut up, leaned over, and kissed me, and we slipped back under the covers for the next half hour or so.

After the first few days, being married seemed less of a novelty and more, well, normal. Tuor's house was comfortable, if _messy_ (but don't worry, I took care of most of the mess after a week or so), and it was nice to actually have my own place instead of sharing a house with a ton of other people. Plus, I got to spend all my time with Tuor, which was, to put it mildly, wonderful.

It wasn't long, though, until there was another addition to our family—Meleth. (Yes, Meleth. What did you think I was going to say?) She came over one day about a week and a half after Tuor and I were married and asked if she could move in with us.

"I mean, you may be married now, but I'm still your lady-in-waiting and I'm still single, and I intend to remain so for a good long time," she said. "And I know that you and Tuor are newlyweds and probably want as much privacy as possible, but you could totally use another hand around the house, don't try to deny it. Besides, I don't want to go back to living with my parents! They're so _boring_!"

"Oh, Meleth, sweetie, of course you can move in," I said. "Why on earth would you think otherwise? I just have to convince Tuor that this'll work out and then we'll be good."

Meleth hugged me. "Thanks, Idril. I love you. Almost as much as I love Glorfindel." She obviously had a _lot _of pride in being able to say that now.

Tuor proved harder to convince than usual, however. In his opinion, we were doing just fine on our own, and he still wasn't completely comfortable with having servants anyway.

"Meleth's not a servant, she's my best friend," I argued. "She'll just stay in the spare room and help me with the housework. What could you possibly have against that?"

He sighed. "I don't know, it's just that we got married a week and a half ago. It seems like we should wait to have your best friend move in until we've been married ten years and are completely sick of each other."

"Well, seeing as I'm never going to get sick of you, that's kind of a moot point. Please say yes?" I said in my sweetest voice.

"Fine, fine," said Tuor. "You know I can't refuse anything you say when you give me that look. It must be a politician thing."

So Meleth moved in, and I have to say, I was glad of it. Being a spoiled princess, I wasn't used to doing a lot of work (especially not "housewife stuff"), and fortunately, Meleth did, so she was incredibly useful to have around. Even Tuor admitted that he didn't exactly mind her presence. Dinniel didn't move in with us, as she was already married and that would have been dumb, but she did still drop by every day, since, as I had predicted some years earlier, she had nothing else to do while Enerdhil was working. It was fun having her around, sine we could both kind of lord it over Meleth (us being married ladies and she still being sort-of single).

Not long after the wedding, I actually had a conversation with Maeglin that didn't end with me getting pissed off at him. Well, I was a little angry, of course—I was always a little angry at Maeglin—but I didn't yell at him at all. You should be very proud of me. Anyway, I ran into him in the marketplace the day after Meleth moved in. What he was doing there I couldn't tell you. Normally my cousin considered the marketplace "too common" for him. But there he was anyway, for once not staring/looking at me evilly.

"Good morning, Maeglin," I said cautiously, not sure exactly what he was going to say to me.

"Morning, Idril," he said politely. "And how's married life treating you?"

He said this without a hint of bitterness, as if he was just another friend wishing me well. I was confused. As a result, I decided to be straight-out honest.

"It's great," I said. "Tuor's really a wonderful person, and it's nice to have my own place at last."

"Meleth's living with you now, isn't she?"

"Yes, she's basically helping out around the house, that sort of thing. I like having her around, because I'm not really used to living without my girlfriends."

"Indeed, I imagine that would be hard, since you've had their company most of your life." He glanced at the ground for a moment, then looked back up. "Well, I've got to go. I'll say hi to Turgon for you."

"Thanks. See you around."

Maeglin left, and I stared after him for a moment, wondering what the heck was going on.

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Well, as it turned out, Dad had ordered him to be nice to me about this whole marrying-Tuor thing, as I found out when I dropped by there for a visit a few days later.

"I knew that Maeglin would be somewhat bitter about your marrying Tuor, so I told him that he was not, under any circumstances, to be unkind to you about it," Dad said. "Refreshing, wasn't it?"

"Somewhat," I said. "Of course, it doesn't seem like much of a deal, considering that the only reason he's acting normal now is because you told him to." I sighed. "He's hopeless, isn't he."

"Look, Idril, I know Maeglin's put you through a lot," said Dad. "But you must understand that you're a very attractive girl, and therefore you're bound to attract some of the wrong kind of attention. Just be nice to your cousin, will you? For me?"

I laughed. "Is that basically what you said to Maeglin?"

"Pretty much, aside from saying that he was a very attractive girl. Somehow I don't think that would have gone over very well with him."

"Hmm, you're probably right," I agreed. "Okay, then, Dad, for your sake I'll try to be nice to Maeglin. As long as he doesn't say anything mean to or about Maeglin." Standing up, I kissed Dad on the cheek. "I've gotta go now. Bye."

Tuor raised an eyebrow at me when I came home. "So what'd he say?"

"Apparently he made Maeglin promise that he'd be nice to us," I said. "Not exactly the explanation I was hoping for, but hey, I'll take it."

"You and your dad seem to be getting along really well these days," said Tuor. "Man, I remember the days when you'd complain to me for a half an hour about how much of a jerk he was."

"True, but he's been improving lately," I said. "I think he mostly just ignored me before because he had a lot of work to do, and I didn't really try to make him notice me that much."  
"Now me, I'm lucky," said Tuor. "My real parents never neglected me because they were both dead, and the parents that I had treated me like a prince. Well, a messy-haired orphan prince with bad grammar. Which just proves how superior everyone's lives—including mine—are to yours."

"Shut up," I said, pulling him close to me and kissing him.

The upshot of all this is, my married life was perfect up until the point I started throwing up in the morning.


	31. Unplanned Parenthood

**Chapter 31: Unplanned Parenthood**

"**We never would have had these kids if we'd thought we had to pay for them!"**

**-Homer Simpson**

At first I thought it was something I'd eaten. The meat we'd eaten the night before _had_tasted a little weird, after all. So I just drank some water and forgot about it.

Then it happened again the next day. Seriously, I was _confused_. If I had been a mortal girl, then I would have figured I was getting sick, but Elves don't get sick. Therefore, the whole deal was a bit scary. I suppose I should have told someone earlier, but I was still kind of hoping that it would go away. It didn't.

Of course, Meleth and Tuor did notice eventually and ask me what was going on.

"Idril, there's something up with you," said Meleth. "You've been throwing up every morning for the past eight days."

"And that's just not right," Tuor added. "If it was me, it'd be acceptable, 'cause I'm not totally immune to all illness like you people. But you're an Elf to the Elf-est degree, baby!"

"There's no if, ands, or buts, my dear," said Meleth. "You need to go see a healer."

"Do I have to?" I whined.

"_Yes_," they said at the same time.

"Fine, fine, I'll go," I grumbled. "Gang up on me, why don't you."

"We're doing this because we love you," Tuor said. "Plus, all this throwing up is putting me off my food."

Eventually I gave in and went to go see Ortana. Ortana had been with the royal family for ages—in fact, I think she'd been one of the court healers back when Dad was a kid. She was a tall, muscular woman with short-cropped brown hair and dark grey eyes, and she could be blunt to the point of rudeness. I liked her, since she reminded me a bit of Aunt Aredhel. Not that I really knew Ortana all that well. The last time I'd seen her was back when I was thirty-five (that's about fourteen in human years) and had broken my ankle as the result of a dare (let's not go into details about that).

"'Ello, Idril," said Ortana in her slightly rough accent when I came to see her. "And what's your problem, then?"

"Hello, Ortana," I said. "I'll cut to the chase here—I've been throwing up every morning for the past eight days and I don't know why?"

"You _don't_? For 'eaven's sakes, girl, shouldn't it be obvious?"

"Um…maybe. What is it?"

"You're goin' to have a baby."

I stared at her. "_What_? Are you sure?"

"'Course I'm sure, I've seen it a thousand times. Idril, you're recently married, and I'm assuming that boy of yours isn't exactly scared of intimacy, know what I mean. So this is the only logical explanation."

"But I don't want to have a baby!" I exclaimed. "I just got used to being married! Now I'm going to have to be a _mother_ on top of that?"

"Oh, calm down," said Ortana. "Look at me. I've 'ad three kids and I'm none the worse for wear. Sure, they may be a bit of a nuisance at times—'specially when they're teenagers and start piercing their ears three times and sassing you in public—but it's good to 'ave someone to look after. Besides, soon as you see your baby you'll love 'im, and that's a fact."

"Okay," I said resignedly after a few seconds. "There's nothing I can do about it anyway, I guess."

"Now that's true," said Ortana. "You better go tell your husband, love."

I nodded, thanked her, and left, walking slowly back to my house. At the moment I wasn't in any hurry to get home. A _baby_? I didn't want a baby! Sure, I liked kids. They were cute. But having one—I wasn't ready for that. From what I'd heard, having a baby _hurt_. Also, that they cried a lot and you didn't get any sleep anymore. I'd just gotten married a month ago; couldn't I have at least a little time to settle into my new life before it got any newer?

"Hey, Idril! Didn't expect to see you here. What's up?"

Looking up from my feet, I saw Dinniel smiling brightly at me. "Oh, hey, Dinniel. I was just talking to Ortana, because I haven't been feeling too good lately."

"And…?"

"And…apparently I'm pregnant."

Dinniel stared at me. "Oh. My. Gods. Get out of here?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're _pregnant_! That is so crazy! So am _I_!"

We stared at each other for a moment, then screamed and hugged.

"When did you find out?" I asked when we'd finally calmed down.

"Three days ago. It was a shocker, let me tell you."

"That long? Why didn't you come over and tell me?"

"Because, well, I guess I was kind of in denial about it. I mean, I love kids, but having one is big."

"That was my reaction," I said. "But at least we can complain about how fat we're getting together."

"Yep." Dinniel looped an arm around me. "We'll be fat, whiny moms-to-be. Meleth will feel _so _left out."

"Poor her. When do you think Glorfindel is going to propose?"

"Hopefully soon. I imagine it must be kind of weird having her live with you now that you're married. I mean, yeah, she's awesome, but I wouldn't have wanted _you _living with _me _when I was still a newlywed."

"Gosh, thanks, that makes me feel great."

"Shut up, you know I love having you around. You're practically my sister. Now come on, let's go tell Tuor your big news."

"Um, Dinniel?" I said, lifting her arm off of my shoulders. "Thanks, but I think I'd rather tell him by myself."

"Hey, I know how you feel. Tell me how he takes it!" She waved to me, and ran off, presumably to her house. With a sigh, I walked back to my own house to tell Tuor what I'd found out.

Meleth wasn't home when I got back—apparently Glorfindel had showed up and taken her out to dinner, so it was just Tuor waiting there for me when I walked in the door. Phew. That'd make it easier.

"Hey, you," I whispered breathily, putting my arms around his neck and pressing against him. I'd discovered a long time ago that the best way to break hard news to a guy was to do it in as seductive a tone as possible.

"Hey, you," he whispered back. "So what'd Ortana say?"

"Well, the good news is, I'm not going to die," I said.

"And the bad news?"

"Well, I'm not sure if this is bad news or not, but…" I took a deep breath before continuing. "You're going to be a father."

He pulled away from me, looking shocked. "_What_?"

Oh, no, here it was. I_knew _this would happen. He'd freak out and say that he didn't want kids and what on earth were we thinking, and then I'd feel awful. Crud. Maybe being married sucked after all.

"I'm sorry!" I cried. "I know this is really, really sudden and everything, but it's not like it was my fault! And I can't do anything about it now!"

"Whoa, whoa, calm down," said Tuor. "I'm not mad, or anything. It's just, you know, I'm kind of freaked out. Having kids is pretty major."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But don't worry, you'll be a great dad. You can teach the kid how to insult people's mothers in Orcish."

"An invaluable life skill, that is. I don't know how I'd have survived all my thirty years of life without it." Tuor shook his head. "Wow, that sounds old. Look at me, I'm thirty. And it seems like just yesterday that I was eighteen and shoveling pig crap without getting paid."

"How time flies. But Tuor, you're not old. Thirty's pretty young even for a mortal. And since you're living here and there's pretty much no threat of disease or starvation, all you have to worry about is Gondolin's destruction and a potentially painful, horrible death in battle."

"I'm lucky to have such an optimistic wife," Tuor laughed.

"Yes, you are. But I think we've gotten off-topic again. Why do we always do that?"

"I don't know. Maybe we both have really short attention spans."

"That sounds about right. Anyway, we were talking about the baby, weren't we? Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?"

"Right now, I'm hoping it'll be a boy. I'm living with two girls already; I don't need another one on my case."

"Of course," I said, kissing him on the cheek. "Let's go have supper."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day Dinniel and I told Meleth our big news. You should have seen the look on her face.

"Oh, _man_," she complained. "First you guys get to be married before me, and now you're both pregnant? Why am I always last at things?"

"Well, it's not like having a baby is all that wonderful," I said. "You get a whole year of being sick and gaining a lot of weight, and then you have a whiny kid who keeps you awake all night with their crying. All I have to say is, this had better be worth it."

"Don't worry, it will be," Dinniel reassured. "Babies are cute."

"Yeah, when they're not yours," I muttered.

"So, Meleth, has Glorfindel shown any signs of asking you to marry him soon?" asked Dinniel.

"Not as such, no," said Meleth, "but he did say a few things last night that made it sound like he was ready to get a lot more serious."

"Ooh, tell us everything," I said excitedly. Personally, I was a bit fed up with Glorfindel. He and Meleth had been an item for months now and he still hadn't proposed! Curse these popular bachelor types.

Meleth proceeded to go into detail about every single thing Glorfindel had said to her the previous night, and Dinniel and I listened intently and helped her analyze it all. What else are friends for, after all?


	32. The Weirdest Wedding Ever

**Chapter 32: The Weirdest Wedding Ever**

"**Mommy's alright, Daddy's alright, they just seem a little weird."**

**-Cheap Trick**

Two months later, Glorfindel proposed to Meleth. According to my dear no-longer-single friend, their conversation had gone like this:

Glorfindel: Say, Meleth, you love me, right?

Meleth: Oh, Gods, what'd you do?

Glorfindel: What do you mean, what'd I do?

Meleth: From the way you said it, it sounded like you'd done something awful and that you were trying to make sure I really loved you before you told me what it was.

Glorfindel: I think Idril is a really bad influence on you, Mel. (Mel was Meleth's new nickname that Glorfindel had made up. She hated it when Dinniel and I called her that, but we did anyway)

Meleth: Oh, she's way less cynical ever since she and Tuor got married. Anyway, in answer to your question, yes, I do love you. You love me too, right?

Glorfindel: Of course I do, you silly girl. Actually, though, I needed to confirm the whole love thing because there's a question I want to ask you.

Meleth: Um…okay?

Glorfindel: Want to get married?

Meleth: Want to get _what_?

Glorfindel: Married. You've heard the word, surely. You know, when a man and a woman vow to spend the rest of their lives together…

Meleth: _Obviously _I know what getting married means, you idiot. And of course I'll marry you! Why did you even have to ask?

And that was that. Looked like Meleth and I had one more thing in common: Both of our methods of getting engaged were far from the romantic ideal. But she and Glorfindel were getting married in a few months, so that was really all that mattered.

I was surprised about the whole thing. Dinniel was not.

"It was obvious from the way that he was acting that he was going to ask her sooner or later," she reasoned. "And besides, if he'd taken much longer we would've had to force him to."

Well, I agreed with her on that. Meleth had to have gotten pretty sick of being strung along like that for so long. And I had been getting a bit sick of her whining about how jealous of Dinniel and me she was.

These days I was getting sick a lot more, period. Ever heard the term "morning sickness"? That's completely inaccurate. Try all-day sickness. Not for the first time in my life, for most of this period I ardently wished that I was a boy and didn't have to go through with all this. The various men in my life—most of whom were quite pleased about the coming baby—weren't much help, as they had no idea what I was going through. Although I do have to admit that Dad's reaction to when I told him the news was quite gratifying (he kissed me on both cheeks and told me how incredibly, overwhelmingly proud of me he was).

Dinniel was just as uncomfortable as I was, especially, as she told me, because she _hated _gaining weight.

"I know that it's unavoidable and probably fairly healthy, but I feel so _weird_," she said. "Plus, I have to get a whole new wardrobe, which is _very _annoying."

"Aunt Aredhel was always telling me I needed to gain weight," I remarked. "I guess she'd be happy."

"That's because up until a few years ago, you were, like, scary skinny. I think it was the fact that you had all that stress and no romance to balance it out."

"And you were super-skinny because you never ate because you thought it was unladylike. Who had a better reason, you or me?"

"Shut up, I totally did not say that."

"Sure, honey. You keep telling yourself that."

Meleth's wedding happened seven and a half months later on a very nice if slightly chilly day in early spring. She was wearing the same black dress she'd worn to the Fateful New Year's Eve Party (that was what we called it now, since it had changed both my and Meleth's lives irreparably), and Dinniel and I kept teasing her and saying she looked like she was in mourning.

"I am in mourning," said Meleth. "I'm mourning the fact that I won't get to drive you guys crazy by complaining about being single anymore."

"Poor us," said Dinniel. "I'm really going to miss that, aren't you, Idril?"

"Yes, it's devastating," I said. I was feeling particularly nauseous that day, which I chalked down to excitement and the fact that my baby was due in a few weeks. Seriously, by this point I didn't even care about the whole babies-are-annoying thing—I just wanted the whole ordeal over with.

Dinniel sighed. "This is the last pre-marriage pep talk we'll be able to give for a long time. Doesn't it seem like just yesterday that we were all sweet, virginal single girls who didn't have to worry about babies or taking care of homes?"

"Yes indeed," said Meleth. "That's mostly because it pretty much _was _yesterday for me."

"Oh, no, she's complaining again," I said. "Quick, let's get on with the pep talk. Meleth, you're nervous about getting married, right?"

"Of course not," said Meleth. "I love Glorfindel, and he used to be the most eligible bachelor in all of Gondolin so tons of girls are going to be jealous of me. Why would I be nervous?"

"_Meleth!_" cried Dinniel. "We can't give you a pep talk if you're not nervous!"

"Why do I need a pep talk anyway?" Meleth asked.

"Because it's _tradition_," I said. "And besides, we like giving pep talks. It makes us feel important."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine, I'm absolutely freaking terrified about getting married. You guys are the only ones who can calm me down. Woe is me. Please give me one of your scripted and incredibly obvious pep talks."

"That wasn't very believable, but we'll take it," I said. "Now, Meleth, I've been married for about a year and I can tell you that it's not as horrible as you may have heard. It's actually very enjoyable."  
"I know that," said Meleth. "Haven't I been living with you and Tuor for the past year? And I have to say, you guys have really gotta ease up on the PDA. That's one of the reasons I can't wait to move in with Glorfindel."

"For heaven's sakes, this is impossible. I give up," I declared. "Dinniel, you take over."

"Meleth, marriage sucks and you're a total idiot to give up your freedom like this," said Dinniel. "Now, who wants food?"

"That wasn't a pep talk!" I protested.

"But it was just what I needed," Meleth replied. She got up and hugged both of us. "You guys are the greatest…ow! Idril, I think your baby just kicked me!"

"Yes, he's been doing that lately," I said. "The best thing to do is ignore it."

"I have a remarkably well-behaved baby, I must say," said Dinniel. "He only kicks me about once a day."

"Why do you both assume that your babies will be boys?" said Meleth.

"I don't, I'm just saying 'he' automatically," said Dinniel. "As for Idril, she's probably known the gender of her kid for months."

"Have not," I said, though I did have a bit of a gut feeling that it would be a boy. Or maybe that was just because that was what Tuor wanted. "Anyway, Meleth, you don't want to be late to your own wedding! Let's go!"

"Right on," said Dinniel. "I'm _hungry_, and so is my baby. This eating-for-two thing has its perks."

We all smiled at each other one last time before heading out to marry off the last bachelorette in our group.

Unfortunately, things didn't exactly go as planned. Yes, the food was great, and yes, Glorfindel looked adorable and was super-sweet, and no, no one messed up during the ceremony, but said ceremony was cut off about halfway through when I suddenly had a very nasty realization.

"Um, Tuor?" I whispered. "I think my water just broke."

He gave me a somewhat horrified look. "But I thought you weren't due for another three weeks!"

"Be that as it may, my dear, scientific predictions are not always accurate, and the baby is coming _now_. Do something, for Iluvatar's sake!"

Fortunately, my poor bewildered husband didn't have to do anything, because Meleth looked away from Glorfindel when she heard us whispering and knew immediately what was going on.

"Oh my gods, Idril, it's happening, isn't it?" she asked. When I nodded, she turned back to Glorfindel and put a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, honey, but we're going to have to finish this later. My best friend is about to have a baby and I think that needs to be our priority right now."

"No problem," said Glorfindel gallantly. "Shall I go fetch Ortana?"

"Yes, do that. Idril, you and Dinniel and Tuor and me should probably go back to your house. Think you can make it?"

I nodded again. I currently seemed to be incapable of talking normally. This whole having-a-baby thing was quite painful.

Ten minutes later I was in my bed back at home, and Ortana was bending over me looking stern as always. "'Ow're you feeling?"

"I'm having a baby. How do you think I feel?" I said, as snappishly as I could while in excruciating pain.

"Ah, don't I know how that is," said Ortana. "All right, missy, this'll all be over soon if you do exactly what I say and don't worry too much. Take deep breaths."  
I took a deep breath, as per her recommendation, and tried to completely clear my mind. "Okay."

"Now, close your eyes and push…"

My son came into the world three weeks early at six o' clock PM that day. By the time it was all over I didn't even care about whether it was a boy or a girl or whatever anymore—I was _exhausted_.

"Gods, I am _never _doing that again," I groaned. "Remind me not to have any more kids, okay, guys?"

"Well, she's all right at least," said Dinniel brightly. "Only Idril could be that cynical after she'd just had her first baby."

"Are you sure you're okay?" asked Tuor anxiously. "You look awful."

"Obviously I'm going to be a bit of a mess after what I've just been through," I said. "But yes, I'm fine. Or will be in a few minutes."

"This is the best wedding anyone's ever had," laughed Meleth. "I can't wait to tell my grandchildren about this."

Ortana, meanwhile, had washed off the baby and now handed it to me. "You've got yourself a fine, 'ealthy baby boy there, Idril. See, it's all worth it now, ain't it?

I looked at the baby and had to admit she was right. The little guy was extremely cute, with a fuzz of bright blonde hair like mine and dark greenish-blue eyes like Tuor, and he looked remarkable intelligent for someone who'd just been born ten minutes ago. Like Ortana had predicted seven and a half months ago, I loved him.

"Now _that's_ a baby," said Glorfindel approvingly.

"Aw, he's _soooo_ cute!" squealed Dinniel. "I hope my baby's as cute as him when it's born."

"Seriously," said Meleth. "I suppose this is what happens when two extremely good-looking people get married."

"Go on now, get outta here," ordered Ortana. "Let them have a moment alone, will you?" She herded my friends out of the room and grinned at me. "You're a lucky young lady, Idril. Remember that now."

"I will," I said.

When everyone had left, Tuor kneeled down next to the bed and kissed me on the cheek. "You women are tough, I have to say. I never coulda gone through that."

"Another way my dad is wrong," I said. "But on a more serious note, what should we name him?"

Tuor looked at the baby thoughtfully. "Earendil."

I didn't argue with him. "Earendil is perfect."

_**A quickie note: I know that with Elves there was the whole deal with mother-names and father-names and all that good stuff, but I've never read that Earendil had any other names than the one in the Silmarillion, so I'm just going with that for now.**_


	33. Kids

**Chapter 33: Kids**

"**Children should be kept away from adults until they're mature enough not to be influenced by them."**

**-Maedhros son of Feanor**

"This," said Dad, "is the proudest day of my life."

"Prouder than when you married Mom? Prouder than when I was born? Prouder than when you finished building Gondolin? Wow, Dad, I never thought that my having a baby would be such a defining moment of your life," I said.

"Oh, come on, Idril, you're my only child and now you're a mother. How could this _not _be defining?" Dad smiled down at Earendil. "I can't believe that I have such a handsome grandson."

"I can see why," said Tuor, grinning. He'd gotten comfortable enough with my dad that he could insult him without worrying about it.

"You," said Dad, "are a very insolent young man. I can see why my daughter married you."

"Well, she certainly didn't marry me for my money or intelligence," Tuor laughed.

"You know, I happen to be right here," I said. "Gods, you're worse than Meleth and Dinniel. They talk about me like I'm not there all the time."

"I bet you don't yell at them, though," said Tuor.

"Of course not, they're my girlfriends. I let them get away with things I'd never let my husband or dad get away with."

"We're in trouble, Tuor," said Dad. "She's just like her mother."

Earendil laughed at that. He seemed to have a very highly developed sense of humor, for a baby.

"He'll have a friend to play with soon, you know," I said, taking the baby from Dad and stroking his fuzzy blonde hair. "Dinniel's due in a couple of months."

"Dinniel and Enerdhil. What a couple," said Tuor. "I can't imagine what their children will be like."

"They do say that opposites attract, I suppose," said Dad. "It certainly seems to happen a lot."

"How true," I said, and stood up. "I have to go put Earendil to bed now, Dad. Don't you wish that you were a baby and could just sleep all the time?"

"Ah, yes," Dad sighed. "I have so much to do these days. Being king is quite a job. Go ahead, Idril, I'll just stay here and catch up with Tuor. We haven't had a conversation in a good long time, have we, boy?"

"I'm not exactly a boy anymore, you know. I'm thirty-one."

"Compared to me, that's young. Don't contradict your father-in-law."

I smiled and left the room. It was such fun listening to Dad and Tuor talk. Really, I had to admit it—not all men were stupid and immature. At least not the ones I hung out with.

Earendil fell asleep almost immediately after I put him in his cradle. Gods, was he cute. I'd never really thought of myself as a motherly type of girl, but it's really, really hard to have a kid as perfect as Earendil and not love him. Especially since he had his father's eyes…oh, come on, I'm allowed to be a bit mushy. You would be too in my position.

Not wanting to go back into the sitting room and disturb Tuor and Dad, I sat around in the bedroom for a while and then pulled out a piece of paper.

_Dear Aunt Aredhel,_

_This will be my last letter to you. I still miss you and I'll always love you, but…I just don't really need to write to you anymore._

_Remember what I said in my first letter? I said that you were the only person I could ever communicate with, and that I needed to be able to talk to you to survive. Well, that's not true these days. I've got Tuor now, and my girlfriends, and even Dad, sometimes. And they can actually talk back. Unlike you, since, well, you're dead._

_Anyway, I'm married, and I have a baby, and I'm happy now, not an angsty young girl who was afraid of showing emotion or doing anything out of character. So that's good, I guess. You probably wouldn't think much of my current lifestyle, though. Staying at home with my friends and sewing baby clothes? Not going to every single city council meeting because I occasionally want to stay home and have coffee with my friends? Yeah, definitely not what you'd do. Or what I would have done ten years ago. But I'm different now, and I like it._

_Sorry I won't be writing to you anymore, then. Wait, no, I'm not sorry. You told me to never apologize, and you know I almost always take your advice._

_As usual, say hi to Mom for me._

_Love and goodbye,_

_Your favorite niece,_

_Idril_

That done, I went and pulled all the other letters I'd written to Aunt Aredhel out of the desk drawer (and there were a _lot_ of them), and threw them, one by one, into the fireplace.

"Isn't she beautiful?" sighed Dinniel, holding up her newborn daughter Aurelia. "She looks just like her father. Except she has curlier hair."

"She's adorable," said Meleth. "I can't wait until I have a baby. At least I'm _finally _married, so that's one step closer!"

"Yes, I didn't wreck your wedding this time," I said. "Earendil did start crying, though. I'm sorry about that."

"That kid's out to get me," said Meleth, narrowing her eyes at innocent little Earendil. "When he's a teenager he's going to egg my house, you can bet your boots."

"My baby is not going to be a vandal," I said firmly. "And if he is, he'll be a graffiti artist like his father, not an egger. My family has standards, you know."

"Well, _some _members of your family," said Dinniel. "Seriously, I know your dad made Maeglin promise to be nice to you, but I'm not sure it's working. Have you seen some of the looks he's been giving you lately?"

I shuddered. "Don't go there, girl." I'd been avoiding Maeglin as much as possible lately, since he just plain creeped me out. Of course, he'd always creeped me out, but he was now more than ever.

"It would suck to have a guy that much obsessed with you," said Meleth. "Especially if he was your cousin."

Aurelia sneezed, as if to punctuate the remark. We all laughed.

"She agrees with you, Meleth," said Dinniel. "At least Aurelia's not out to get you."

"Earendil is _not_ out to get Meleth!" I cried. "He just has a poor sense of timing. Isn't that right, Earendil?"

He didn't reply, but he _did _widen his eyes at me and then look quickly towards Meleth as if to say "Keep her away from me." Unfortunately, Meleth picked up on this.

"See, he doesn't like me! Did you see how he just looked at me?" She put one hand on her hip. "You make sure that boy doesn't come near my house, you hear me, girlfriend? I don't trust him."

"That's mean, Mel," said Dinniel. "Personally, I like Earendil. He reminds me of his dad."

"Do _not _call me Mel," said Meleth. "I only let Glorfindel call me Mel. Hey, Dinniel, maybe Aurelia will end up marrying Earendil."

"No, I don't think so," I said. "Aurelia doesn't really seem like Earendil's type."

"My gods, we are sad," Dinniel declared. "We're trying to set our babies up with each other. Do you guys realize how pathetic that is?"

"Pathetic, but lots of fun," I replied. "Besides, what else are we going to do? We're mothers. Until our kids are at least eight, we have to stay home with them all the time."

"Yeah, then we can send them off to school and forget about them," said Dinniel.

"Well, I'm _not _a mother, which means that I don't necessarily have to sit around talking," said Meleth. "I don't have to hang out with you guys, you know."

"Yes, actually, you do," I said. "You're getting paid to hang out with me, you know." I groaned. "Man, that made me sound like a total spoiled rich brat, didn't it."  
"Kind of yeah, but we're not offended," said Meleth, patting me on the shoulder. "We know you're not spoiled or a brat. Rich, though, definitely."  
"Maybe you could start paying us a little _more_ to hang out with you, huh?" said Dinniel. "I have to keep Aurelia well-fed."

"I'm pretty sure that Enerdhil makes enough money to keep half the North Side well-fed," I said. "Same for Glorfindel, Meleth. You guys don't need me to pay you any more. If anything, you need me to pay you _less_."

"Don't you dare!" said Meleth. "We can always quit, you know."

"You totally wouldn't. You love me too much."

Meleth thought about that for a moment. "You're right. But don't cut our salaries anyway."

"You have weird friends," said Tuor when we were alone later that evening and I was rubbing his back. "Of course, I guess I shouldn't be talking, since Voronwe and Elemmakil aren't exactly normal people. Oh, gods, that feels good…" Tuor particularly liked it when I rubbed his back, since he'd been whipped a lot when he was a slave and I guess it made the skin kind of sensitive or something.

"I haven't seen Voronwe and Iavas in a while," I said. "How are they? How's Ilverin?"

"That kid is _evil_. Seriously, I've never met an evil one-year-old before, but that's definitely what Ilverin is. He tripped me when I was leaving their house."

I laughed. "I wish I'd been there."

"What, because you like to see me humiliated? That's real nice. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"You know, Tuor, your grammar has become almost perfect in the eight years you've been here. I think some of my class is rubbing off on you."

"That may be, but I'll never stop saying 'yo'," said Tuor. "Remember how for a while after I came here you talked like me? That was hilarious."

"It also drove my dad crazy. I think that's part of why I did it."

"Your dad's cool."

"Yeah. He wasn't always, but he is now."

We stopped talking for a while and enjoyed the general feeling of peace that hung over our house and the entire city.


	34. Trouble Brewing

**Chapter 34: Trouble Brewing**

"**[Thinking is always a dangerous thing for a woman to do."**

**-Margaret Peterson Haddix**

Three months later Maeglin disappeared. Just like that. No one had any idea what had happened to him; we just knew that that he wasn't there.

"Typical Maeglin," said Tuor derisively. "Don't worry about it, Idril, he'll turn up sooner or later. How could he survive without you around to stare at?"

I didn't share my husband's confidence. Yes, Maeglin did often seem to disappear for days at a time, but this was different. Usually we had at least a general idea of where he was. This time we had no leads, no ideas, no nothing. What made the whole deal even weirder was that this was_Gondolin_, for heaven's sakes. As a rule, no one disappeared from Gondolin. Especially not after we'd sealed off the entrance, for crying out loud.

Dad, of course, was distraught.

"I've lost my own nephew!" he cried when Tuor and Earendil and I were at the palace talking to him about the whole deal. "What would Aredhel say?"

"She'd blame him and tell you not to worry," I said. "For heaven's sakes, Dad, it wasn't your fault. Maeglin has a history of doing rather stupid things without anyone's help."

"Jerk," muttered Tuor. "I gotta say, you guys, I don't miss him."

Earendil sneezed in agreement. I rolled my eyes.

"Come on, boys, that's not nice. You don't have to miss him but at least you can show some concern."

"Concern's not going to help much at this point," said Dad pessimistically. "Actually, I don't think anything's going to help much at this point. We've searched the entire city; there's not much more we can do."

"Well, then, I guess we'd better just chill for now and see how it goes," said Tuor. "Don't worry, Turgon, it'll work out for the best."

"I don't know about that," I said. "I have a nasty feeling about all this." Tuor frowned at me. "Oh, right, that probably didn't help. Dad, Maeglin's tough, he'll be fine. You just have to keep up hope."

"You're right, you're both right," said Dad, sighing. "But I have a right to be worried, you know. Maeglin _is _my nephew."

"And we don't envy you for it," said Tuor. "Right, Earendil?"

Wisely, Earendil didn't reply.

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Tuor and I weren't the only people for whom Maeglin's disappearance wasn't exactly a tragedy. In fact, most of the people I knew seemed to feel the same way. My friends definitely did—Dinniel even went so far as to say that things definitely seemed less complex when he wasn't around. So when he did turn up, his welcome wasn't _quite _as warm as he'd probably hoped it would be.

I heard about it a week after Maeglin had disappeared in the first place, from the same servant boy who'd told me about the whole Dad-going-to-war thing, as well as Tuor's arrival in Gondolin.

"Well, I haven't seen you in a while," I said when he knocked on our door and I answered it. "How have you been, kid?"

"Not bad," he said. "I have a girlfriend now, actually."

"Really? That's cool. So what's up? I assume Dad wants to see me about something?"

"Something along those lines, yeah. Actually, princess, your cousin's back."

"Her cousin's_what_?" said Tuor, appearing in the hallway. He looked like he'd just gotten out of the bath, since his hair was still wet and he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Back. He showed up last night. In pretty poor condition, I have to say. So yeah, you should probably go to the palace if you want to know what happened."

"Right. Tuor, go get dressed," I said. "There is no way I'm going to wait until later to find out why my cousin's been missing for a week."

"You read my mind, girl. Give me five minutes." Tuor disappeared back into the house, and the servant boy left. Meanwhile, I stood around in the doorway and tried to figure out where Maeglin had been. For once in my life I couldn't come up with any ideas.

I saw when we got to the palace and entered Maeglin's room, where he was lying on his bed lazily, that the boy had been right. He was a _mess_. His hair was ratty, his skin was even paler than usual, and he had a ton of bruises. It was so pitiful that I almost felt sorry for him.

"Idril!" Maeglin said. It was almost sad how his face lit up when I came in the room. "Good to see you. I look like a mess, don't I?"

"Yes, you do," I said. "Where were you? We were worried sick."

"Long story."

"Well, tell it," said Tuor. "We've got time."

Maeglin frowned at him. "Don't tell me what to do, mortal boy."

"Just tell us what happened, Maeglin," said Dad wearily. "And don't get into a fight, you two. Sometimes I swear I feel like I'm with a couple of teenagers…"

"All right, all right, I'll sum it up," said Maeglin. "I'd left the city for a while on a mining trip—_don't _give me that look, Uncle Turgon, I've been doing this for ages and you never commented on it—when I ran into some of Morgoth's minions and got captured."

"And that's why I didn't want you leaving the city," said Dad. "We have rules for a reason, Maeglin."

"Whatever. Anyway, so I got captured and Morgoth tortured me for a bit, and then got sick of it and let me go. And that's pretty much it."

"You didn't tell him anything, did you?" I demanded.

"Obviously not, Idril. What kind of person do you think I am?"

"I think that if you survived getting tortured by Morgoth, then you're a lot tougher than you look," said Tuor. "I'm actually somewhat impressed."

"Thanks," said Maeglin, looking pained at having to thank Tuor. "Well, I'm tired. Can people leave so I can get some rest?"

"Of course," said Dad. "You definitely need some time to heal up."

"I don't feel good about this, Tuor," I whispered as we left. "Something very weird is going on."

"What makes you say that?" Tuor asked. "Other than the fact that I actually complimented Maeglin."

I thought about the look on Maeglin's face when Dad had asked him if he'd told Morgoth anything. "I don't know…"

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That night I had another one of my random dreams. I was sitting on the roof of the house I'd dreamed about before—which I now realized was mine and Tuor's—watching the city burn. Tuor wasn't there, since he'd gone off to fight or something. It was just me, and I was freaked out.

"Mom?"

I looked around and there was Earendil, if a slightly older-looking version of him, standing next to me. "Yes, honey?"

"What's happening?"

"The city's dying," I said with a sigh. "It was a historical inevitability. I just wish it didn't have to happen like this."

"It wouldn't have had to, you know," said another voice, this one to my left. "If you had just agreed to love me…"

"Maeglin," I said, not really needing to turn to see who it was. "Don't start. You can't _agree_ to love someone. It has to just happen."

"Normally," said Maeglin, "I would agree with you. But I'm sorry to say, Idril, that right now you've got no choice."

"What do you mean?" asked Earendil bravely.

Maeglin leaned over towards me. "Your husband's dead, sweetheart. And now there's no way out."

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I woke up with a scream.

"Sheesh, Idril, that was kinda loud, don't you think?" said Tuor, opening his eyes. "I'm pretty sure you woke up people three blocks from here."

"Well, you can hardly blame me for that," I said. "I just had what is possibly the worst dream I've ever had in my life."

"What happened?"

"Um…well, I'd rather not go into details, but the city was burning and you were dead, and there was no way to get out of said city. So yeah, pretty unpleasant."

"Huh," said Tuor. "And do you think that this was a prophetic vision, or just the result of the rather late dinner we had last night?"

"Food doesn't give me nightmares. In fact, I hardly ever dream at all. And the dreams I have usually turn out to be at least somewhat connected to later events. Therefore, in answer to your question, probably a prophetic vision."

"Interesting," Tuor said. "And what do you think we oughta do about this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I said. "We need to figure out another way to get out of Gondolin. The entrance is sealed off and if we're attacked, we're screwed. Another exit is the only answer."

"That's fine, Idril. And, if you'll pardon me for asking, do we have to discuss this _now_? It's three o'clock in the morning!"

"If you're _that_tired, we can talk tomorrow. But time waits for no one, my dear."

My plan was simple: Dig a tunnel going out of the city.

"We'll build it so it goes into the southern mountains," I said. "Not only does that lead away from Angband, but no one ever goes to the southern mountains, so it'll be fairly hidden."

"That's a good idea, but do you have any idea how hard the ground around there is?" asked Tuor. "It'd take years to do what you're suggesting."

"Isn't it worth it to know we'll have a slightly higher chance of survival if the city falls?" I replied. "Besides, Tuor, we're the Noldor. If anyone can build a tunnel through rock-solid ground, it's us."

He sighed. "Fine. I'll see if I can find some people."

"Thanks, you're great. Oh, and Tuor?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't let _anyone_find out about this. Not Dad, not Maeglin, not anyone. _Especially_not Maeglin."


	35. A Girl without a Purpose

**Chapter 35: A Girl without a Purpose**

"**In my heart there was a kind of fighting**

**That would not let me sleep."**

**-William Shakespeare**

Five years passed. Five long, uneventful years during which absolutely nothing big happened and I alternated between bored and worried. The tunnel was started, and it was hard to build, as Tuor had predicted, but once work got started on it things went fine. Dinniel had a son that she named Herion, and Meleth had a daughter that she named Ringare. While normally I would have been totally excited about this, by this point in time it just seemed like no big deal. People get born, people grow up, blah, blah, blah.

Earendil was five and a half now, and I had to say that I was proud of him. He was a smart, sweet kid, and pretty much everyone liked him (even Maeglin, who'd been acting oddly un-depressed lately). Actually, I was pretty sure that Tuor had been just like Earendil when he was five—clever, slightly impudent, and always up to something. Which three traits occasionally resulted in my young son getting into quite a bit of trouble.

One day he came to me in the sitting room with a rather large cut on his knee and a very pleased expression on his face.

"Yo, Mom, I cut myself," he said. Earendil had a habit of talking like his dad, and it was extremely funny. "Can you help me?"

"How did you cut yourself?" I asked, picking him up and sitting him on the coffee table and starting to dab at the cut with a wet cloth.

"Me an' Ilverin were having a race down Main Street and I tripped at the end," he said. "Won the race, though."

"Hmm," I said. "I remember things like that used to happen to me _all _the time, back when I was young and wild…"

It felt like I'd just been hit over the head with an anvil. _Back when I was young_. I wasn't young anymore, and I wasn't wild, or stressed out, or angry, or anything. I'd become a dull, tired housewife with a life so perfect that it was agonizing and absolutely nothing to stand for. I was _boring_.

Of course, I burst into tears.

"Mom?" asked Earendil anxiously. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, honey," I said, trying to control myself. "Your cut's clean now. Go on outside."

He gave me one last worried look and left the room. When he'd gone, I let go and cried like I'd never cried before.

"I wish something would happen," I whispered through my tears. "I wish something would _happen_."

"Idril?"

Tuor knelt down next to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "Earendil said you were crying. Are you all right?"

"All right?" I snapped. "All right? Of course I'm all right, Tuor. I'm perfectly all right. That's the problem!"

"How so?"

"My life's reached a standstill. Back in the old days, I always had something to fight for, something to be passionate about, something to be angry at. Now Dad's perfect to me, Maeglin's stopped hitting on me, I've got you and we never fight or anything, the city hasn't been destroyed, my friends are all married with kids, and everyone's perfectly happy! Where does that leave me? I'm bored, Tuor. I've got none of my old strong feelings or opinions about anything. I've become the one thing I never wanted to be."

"So what are you going to do?" said Tuor.

"What can I do?" I said. "Nothing ever changes in this city anymore, and it's not like I can makeit change." I sighed. "I almost wish Gondolin _would_ get destroyed. At least it'd be exciting."

Tuor gave me a weird look. "Please tell me you didn't just say that."

"I did say it, and why not?" I cried. "This has never been home to me, Tuor. It's an illusion. A gilded cage. I would give anything to be able to leave and start a new life somewhere."

"So you want the city to be destroyed?" said Tuor. He looked angry now. "You want dozens of people to be killed or injured, just so you can be a little less bored? Idril, I thought you cared about your people."

"They're not my people, they're Dad's," I said. "I'm not in charge of them. I have no influence over them. And I thought you wanted Gondolin to fall, too!"

"I said it was _going to _fall, Idril. I never said I wanted it too. Just because I brought the message to your dad doesn't mean I believe every word of it, either."

"You don't think that what Ulmo said is true?" I asked, completely furious. "You've let me believe for years that we thought the same thing, and now you're telling me that it was all a sham? What was it, some plot to get me to fall in love with you? Well, it worked, if that's the case. Though I'm not sure if it's working now." I stood up and stomped out of the room, running up to our bedroom and crying even more when I got there.

_I was right_, I thought mournfully. _Girls in my family shouldn't get married. No matter how nice a guy seems, he's always a jerk underneath._

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- _

"Mom?"

That was Earendil's voice, so I opened the door to let him in. He looked up at me, his dark blue eyes full of concern.

"What do you need, Earendil?" I asked tiredly.

"Why are you and Dad mad at each other?"

I sighed. "It's complicated, honey. Mostly it involves a difference in opinions and the fact that I'm now a boring housewife when I vowed I'd never end up like that."

"You're not boring, Mom," said Earendil. "You're _really _in'tresting. You're the smartest person I know."

"Thanks," I said, smiling, "but I'm afraid being smart doesn't cut it anymore. I don't _do_ anything anymore. I haven't made a difference in years."

"You make lots of differences." Earendil pointed at the scabbed-up cut on his knee. "You make differences to me."

"Well, that's true at least," I said. "Can you go find your father? I need to talk to him."

"Okay." He ran off, and I sat down and waited. A moment later my son returned, with my husband behind him.

"You wanted to talk, Idril?" said Tuor, not sounding mad at all. I was surprised.

"Yes, I do," I said. "Come in here, please."

He came in, shutting the door behind him, and sat down next to me on the bed. "Are you feeling better now?"

"In fact I am," I replied. "I mean, I don't do things that affect Gondolin hugely anymore because I simply don't have opportunities to. But that doesn't mean I can't affect my family hugely."  
"How true," said Tuor. "Idril, I have a confession to make."

"What is it?"

"You know how I told you that I didn't really believe what Ulmo had said and that I was just going along with it because I'd been told to."

"Yes."

"Well, you had said that you didn't have any strong opinions anymore and you didn't have anything to be angry about, so I decided to get you angry just to make you less depressed. The whole deal was a very cleverly planned ruse." He looked at me hopefully. "Did it work?"

I slapped him twice across the face and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

"That was all an act?" I gasped. "Wow, Tuor, you're _good_. You're really good. Seriously, I completely hated you for a while back there."

"That was the intent," said Tuor, grinning. "And actually, I sort of agree with you about the whole Gondolin-getting-destroyed thing. We've been waiting for so long that it would be good to have _something_happen. If only to prove to people that we're not crazy."

"Well, we are crazy," I said, "but not in that way. Still, you can't think that sane people would have an argument like the one we just had."

"True, true. Insanity does run in your family, I hear."

"What about yours?"

"How dare you say such a thing! My dad ran away from home when he was thirteen to go to war and you accuse my family of being less than sane?"

I laughed again and kissed him on the cheek. "By the way, Tuor, I'll always be in love with you, no matter how much of a jerk you turn out to be."

His reply was to lock the bedroom door and give me a long, slow kiss on the lips.

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I got up at midnight, slipped on my dressing gown, and walked out onto the part of our house that connected with the walls. There wasn't really much going on over said walls—just a bunch of depressing-looking mountains that appeared pretty much impossible to climb over. It'd be really, really hard for Morgoth's forces to get through that, I thought. But then again, you never knew…


	36. Self Help

_**Well, Idril was a bit of a witch in that last chapter, eh? Don't worry, she's nicer in this one. Hey, even princesses have to be witchy sometimes.**_

**Chapter 36: Self-Help**

"**I'm OK—you're messed up."**

**-Stephan Pastis**

"Well, I have to say, Tuor must really, really love you," said Iavas as she played with my hair. She was hanging out with Dinniel and Meleth and I today because we needed some fresh company. "If I'd been him I would've dumped you straight away."

"That's not nice, Iavas," said Meleth. "You fight with Voronwe all the time, I'll bet, and yet he still hasn't left you."

"Marriage is boring without the occasional fight," Iavas replied. "But _wow_, Idril. I didn't even think you were capable of being that—un-politician-like."

"I'm allowed to act out of character sometimes," I said. "Like Dinniel when she got married to Enerdhil."

"That wasn't out of character," Dinniel protested. "It was fate. You know what they say…"

"Opposites attract. Yeah, Din, we've heard it," said Iavas. "That's not always a good thing, my dear."

"Let's just say that love is weird and leave it at that," Meleth said. "I married a popular rich guy, Idril married a mortal with bad grammar, Dinniel married a shy smith guy, and Iavas married a boy who's exactly like her in every way except that he's not a girl. We've got a very diverse bunch of husbands."

"But you know, Idril, being a housewife isn't exactly easy for most of us," said Dinniel suddenly.

"Seriously. I mean, we love you and everything, but honey, you can be a bit of a snob sometimes," added Meleth. "And I know that being a mom and taking care of kids seems kind of plain compared to all the drama and politics you're used to, but hey, we're pretty much the backbone of society."

I groaned. "You're right, you're right, I'm a total jerkette. You all must hate me."

"Oh, don't be like that," said Dinniel, giving me a quick hug. "It's impossible to hate you."

"Yeah," said Iavas. "Just because we occasionally want to punch you doesn't mean we hate you. But seriously, Idril. Wishing the city would get destroyed because you're _bored_? Say that in public and you'll get yourself a lot of enemies."

"I didn't really mean that, you know," I said. "And I know it's really nasty of me to say something like that. Tuor said that he didn't mean it when he got mad at me for that, but I'm not sure if he was entirely telling the truth. Really, I'm just desperate for some excitement. Too much contentment leads to bad things, you know."

"Well, sure, with_that_ attitude," said Meleth. "The Queen of Pessimism strikes again, girls."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"If you keep thinking that bad things will happen, then they will," said Iavas. "So you're constantly complaining about your life and driving us all crazy, when it's actually partly your fault."

"Guys!" I cried. "I can't take all this criticism in a space of five minutes!"

"We haven't even gotten started," said Meleth, grinning evilly. "Let's see, what else can we criticize Idril about?"

"She takes too much for granted," said Dinniel.

"She thinks she's prettier than me," said Iavas. "Which she is, but she doesn't need to rub it in."

"She complains too much."

"She thinks too much."

"She doesn't allow herself to be happy."

"Gee, this is a real confidence booster," I muttered.

"And, of course, she can't stand criticism," said Dinniel. "Come on, Idril, we've all got our faults. You actually have a lot less than most of us."

"So…?"

"So get over it and lighten up," said Iavas. "Let's talk about our kids instead. I think Ilverin's father is becoming a bad influence on him. That boy's six years old and already he's cussing like a sailor!"

"Yeah, Earendil's like that too," I said. "You and Dinniel are so lucky, Meleth. You married _cultured _guys."

"Hey, do not underestimate our cultured guys," said Meleth. "Have you seen Glorfindel when he's drunk?"

"Are you kidding? I_kissed _him once when he was drunk," said Dinniel.

We all stared at her.

"What?" said Dinniel defensively. "It was fifty years ago, you guys. And it was for, like, two seconds. It didn't mean anything."

We stared at her some more.

"Oh, you guys are all just jealous," she said. "Anyway, the point is, yes, I know what Glorfindel's like when he gets drunk. And no, Meleth, I don't envy you."

"That's great," said Meleth. "Please shut up now."

"See, I'm not the only one who's kind of a snob sometimes!" I said. "So ha. Now I can criticize you."

"You criticize us all the time anyway," said Iavas.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. You might not mean to but you do."

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm just a bit critical by nature. I can find my own faults, too." I looked up at the sky and saw that the sun was starting to set. "Sorry, girls, I have to get home and make supper."

"Aw, Idril's become so domestic," said Dinniel. "I remember back when she couldn't even boil water."

"I still can't," I said, standing up. "But it's not like my boys can tell the difference."

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"Idril, this dinner is delicious," said Tuor. "For a girl who claims not to be the domestic type, you're darn good at it."

"Thanks," I said, trying not to laugh.

"Mom, why are you making that face?" said Earendil. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing, hon. I was just remembering something that Dinniel said earlier today."

"I like Aunt Dinniel," said Earendil. "I like Aurelia, too. She once beat me up."

"Ah, yes, I remember that," said Tuor. "Think you'll marry her someday?"

Earendil wrinkled his nose. "No. I don't wanna get married."

"Aw, he's just like you," Tuor said to me. "I wonder if he'll change his mind like you did?"

"Well, he might and he might not," I said. "Anyway, it's his decision."

"I'm right here, you know," Earendil pointed out.

"Oh, man, Tuor, we're worse than my friends," I said. "Sorry, Earendil. Man, it seems like it's Point-Out-Idril's-Flaws Day."

"What, didn't you know that?" said Tuor. "We've been talking about it for weeks. It's a new holiday that your dad just instated."

"Very funny, love," I said sarcastically. "Well, get it over with. What do you want to say about me?"

"You need to learn to relax," said Tuor. "You're uptight all the time, and it drives me nuts."

"_And _you need to let me stay up later," said Earendil.

"Thank you for that, Tuor, I will try to relax more from now on. And Earendil, I'm letting you stay up until eight o'clock these days. That's plenty late."

"Ilverin's parents let him stay up until eight-thirty."

"Yes, well, I've been Ilverin's dad at cards thirty-three consecutive times," said Tuor. "What does that tell you about Ilverin's dad, huh?"

"Nothing," said Earendil. "Playing cards has nothing to do with bedtime."

"I've taught you well, my boy," I said, kissing him on the forehead. "Now finish your beans."

"So what did your friends criticize you about?" Tuor asked.

"Want the whole list?" I said. "I'm a snob, I'm too pessimistic, I take too much for granted, I'm too vain about my looks, I think too much, and I won't let myself be happy."

"Most of that I agree with, but vain about your looks?" said Tuor. "Now _that_isn't true. You've never cared about your looks."

"Which is probably a good thing, or I'd be even more insufferable than I am now," I said. "At least I'll never be stuck with the burden of being the most beautiful girl in the world, like that poor Princess Luthien. Seriously, I would have _hated _to be her. I have enough annoying guys in love with me as it is. And besides, with looks that good, she couldn't have been that intelligent. I mean, something has to give."

"So you're saying that extremely attractive people are dumb?" said Tuor.

"Of course not," I said. "After all, you're pretty smart, aren't you?"

"Mom, Dad," said Earendil. "Can you not get all mushy? At least not when I'm around?"

"Sorry, kid," said Tuor. "It's your mom's fault, not mine."

I sighed. "Here we go again. If I get through today without losing all my self-esteem it'll be a miracle."

"If it's any comfort, Idril, I often think that it would be a shame if you were somehow to get killed," said Tuor.

I kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks. I feel the same."

"Now that we've solved all Mom's problems, can we start on Dad's?" said Earendil. "He always yells at me for pointless reasons."

"Let's save that for tomorrow," I said. "I've heard all the criticism I can handle for now. Even if it's not referring to me."

_**Okay, yes, not much happened in this chapter. I just needed a break from drama. : )**_


	37. The Last Peaceful Chapter

**Chapter 37: The Last Peaceful Chapter**

"**The stars predict a good day for you, I think. Or maybe a painful death."**

**-Another Horoscope, written by My Brother**

Well, things were going better now. I wasn't depressed, and it really was nicer not having too much to worry about. I still had to worry about Earendil getting in trouble with my friends' kids, but that wasn't exactly a huge deal.

And, of course, there was the potential problem of the city getting destroyed and everyone dying horrible, painful deaths, though that didn't seem very likely at the moment. In fact, I think my life could have gone on happily for quite some time if I hadn't had _another _one of those dang random prophetic dreams. Seriously, why do I always get those? Isn't my life crazy enough?

Anyway, the dream was this:

I wasn't in Gondolin. Actually, I wasn't really sure where I was. I was just kind of there. And there happened to be some kind of extremely dark, scary-looking forest. The trees shifted slightly, and suddenly I was looking in the window of a house, into a room where a dark-haired woman was sitting on a chair with a child in her lap.

"Well, kid, it's just you and me now," said the woman in an oddly familiar-sounding voice.

"Where's Dad?" asked the kid.

"He's gone to visit the Dwarves. Dang good thing if you ask me. Not that I'm not fond of your dad, but he gets on my nerves sometimes. _And_ I can call you by your name now—Lomion."

"Tell me about Gondolin, Mom," said the boy. "Tell me about King Turgon."

"Gondolin," sighed the woman. "It's the most beautiful city in the world. Kind of closed-in, but beautiful. All white stone and lovely fountains, and the constant feeling of _safety_. You're never alone in Gondolin. Not ever."

The woman looked up and stared me in the eyes, and it was Aunt Aredhel, but not her somehow. I think she was kind of a combination of Aunt Aredhel and Mom, and maybe some of me, too.

"It's over, Idril," she said. "This is the end. Are you ready? Are you prepared for the fall of everything you know?"

"No," I whispered.

And woke up.

_Well, no wonder that dream was so weird_, I thought, sitting up on the couch and looking around. _I _never_ sleep at three o' clock in the afternoon_.

But still, the dream had raised an interesting question. _Were _we prepared for Gondolin's eventual destruction? How was the tunnel going? How was the guard around the city walls? Which side would Morgoth attack from? And where, exactly, was Earendil?

Okay, so that last one had nothing to do with my dream. But I'd sent him outside before taking my unplanned nap, and I had no idea where he'd gotten to. What a great mother I was.

I got up and looked around the house for Tuor, finally finding him standing by the walls and looking out over the mountains. "Hey, you. Have you seen Earendil? I sent him outside a few minutes ago, but then I fell asleep and I don't know where he is."

"You fell asleep during the day? Wow, you must have been really exhausted," he said, not looking at me. "You _never _sleep during the day."

"Once again, you show an amazing talent for stating the overly obvious," I said. "Your parents would have been proud."

Tuor didn't laugh, which made me feel a bit miffed. Normally he would have found something like that hilarious.

"So anyway, I had another dream," I said. "One of those really weird prophetic ones."

_That _got his attention. He turned to me, eyes widened. "What happened?"

"Well, a lot of it was kind of weird and I didn't understand it, but the upshot of the whole deal was that Aunt Aredhel told me that Gondolin's end was coming and we'd better be prepared."

"Are we?"

"I don't know. Are we? How's the tunnel going?"

"It's pretty much done. We have, like, ten feet left to dig through."

"That's good. And no one else knows?"

"If they do, it's not my fault."

"For heaven's sakes, honey, you're pretty much a lord now. You've got to be more certain of things than that."

"Hey, you're the smart one. I just do what you tell me to. Which, by the way, is causing some of the guys to say I'm henpecked."

"Ignore them. Realizing that your wife is smarter than you does not make you henpecked."

"My, my, we're certainly arrogant. You're definitely a House of Finwe girl."

I didn't deny it.

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"Hey, Mom," Earendil asked me later that day. "If a tree falls in a forest and no one's around, does it still make a sound?"

"Why do you ask?" I said absently.

"Ringare said that her dad asked Aunt Meleth that at the dinner table yesterday and Aunt Meleth didn't know. So I thought I'd ask you."

"Well, the answer is yes," I said. "Even if no one heard it, it'd still make a sound."

"That's what I thought. But Aurelia thought that Uncle Glorfindel might not have meant that _exactly_, that the question might have meant something else."

"That, my dear, is called philosophy, which you shouldn't worry about until you're much, much older."

"What's philos'phy?"

"It's when a bunch of smart old people like your uncle Glorfindel and myself try to figure out the meaning of things and end up just getting confused and talking about something else."

"I don't wanna get old," said Earendil decidedly. "Old people don't have any fun."

"Nonsense, darling. Who's been telling you that?"

"Ilverin did. He said that his parents never run around or anything, they just sit around and talk and sometimes argue."

"Well, I know both his parents, and they both think that sitting around and talking-slash-arguing _is _fun. You don't have less fun when you're grown-up; it's just your idea of fun that changes."

"You sure know a lot, Mom."

"I had a very lonely childhood. Therefore, I studied a lot. The less attention you get, the smarter you end up."

"I get lots of attention," said Earendil thoughtfully. "Does that mean I'm gonna be dumb?"

"Of course not," I said, kissing him on the top of the head. "No son of mine will ever be dumb." I looked at the clock. "I have to go visit your grandpa now. Be good while I'm gone, okay? I'll be back in time for supper."

"Yes'm."

What I was hoping to accomplish by telling Dad about my dream I don't know—it wasn't like he was going to do a whole lot about it. But I just wanted him to be aware of it, because if I thought the city's end was extremely near then he had a right to know. Even if he did just dismiss it as womanly paranoia.

"Hello, Dad, Maeglin," I said, taking a seat on the couch in the palace's sitting room and sighing as I looked around. I'd spent so much time in this room over the years, and it felt awful to know that it would probably not exist fairly soon. In that moment, I realized that no matter how shut-in this city felt, it was my home, and I loved it. I didn't want Gondolin to fall!

"Hello, Idril," said Dad. "To what do we owe this visit?"

Oh, right. I had a reason for coming here. I'd forgotten about that.

"Dad, this is going to sound totally dumb, but Gondolin's destruction is coming. Soon. I've had another of my dreams, and you know that those are usually correct. We need to be prepared."

"Idril," said Maeglin gently, "do you have any proof of this?"

"Technically, no. I'm basing this off past incidents, which is usually a pretty good basis."

"But not always. Just because a few of your dreams have come true before doesn't mean that this one will."

Was it my imagination, or did he look a little bit guilty as he said this?

"Look, I'm not going to tell you guys that we have to pack up and leave the city," I said. "It's too late to do anything as drastic as that. All I'm saying is, we have to make sure we're ready for a potential attack. We are, aren't we?"

"Idril, Gondolin has been ready for a potential attack since the day it was built," said Dad. "And anyway, you've already talked to us about this. Since Tuor's coming we've doubled the guard around the walls _twice_! What more could you possibly expect us to do?"

"I don't know," I said wearily, closing my eyes. "I'm sorry, Dad. It's just, I'm so worried…"

"I know you're worried, Idril," said Dad gently. "It's in your blood to worry. But you have to have faith in me. I built this city, and I know how to protect it. Everything will work out. Can you trust me on that?"

I took a breath and opened my eyes. "I'll try. Thanks, Dad." I nodded at my cousin. "Maeglin."

"You know I care about you, Idril," said Maeglin. "I would never let anything hurt you."

If only.

**_We're on the home stretch now, ladies and gents. I didn't call this the Last Peaceful Chapter for nuthin'..._**


	38. Cometh the Enemy

**Chapter 38: Cometh the Enemy**

"**It's a fine day for killing."**

**-Stonewall Jackson**

"Mom, can I stay up all night this year?" asked Earendil eagerly.

"If it's all right with your father," I said absently, running a brush through my hair.

"Dad, can I stay up all night this year?" Earendil asked Tuor.

"If it's all right with your mother," Tuor called from the other room.

"_Tuor_!" I cried.

"Sorry, sorry, couldn't resist. Yes, Earendil, it's all right with me."

It was the night before the big festival we had every year right before summer began—aptly named the Gates of Summer—and I was looking forward to it. It was the tradition to stay up all the night beforehand, and no one spoke from midnight until the sun rose. We'd done this back in Vinyamar, too, and once when I was a kid I'd had the nerve to ask my dad at two o'clock in the morning _why _we couldn't talk until the sun came up. That resulted in my getting grounded for a week (Dad took tradition _very _seriously).

"This is gonna be _so _cool," said Earendil. "I've never gotten to stay up all night before."

"Well, you're seven now, and that's about how old I was when Dad let me stay up all night," I told him. "But I won't ground you if you accidentally talk before sunrise, I promise."

"Why, did your dad do that to you?"

"Yes, and I thought it was pretty stupid."

"Wow, Idril, you're such a rebel," Tuor teased. "You must have been a total bad girl back when you were young."

"That's true, but let's not discuss it in front of Earendil. I don't want him getting ideas."

"Aw, come on," Earendil whined. "How come you never tell me any interesting stories about when you guys were younger? It's not like I'd automatically try to copy you or anything."

"We're just trying to protect you," I said. "And we want you to be able to come up with your own ways to rebel." I adjusted my skirt one last time and smoothed Earendil's hair. "Are you ready, Tuor?"

"Ready as I'm ever gonna be," said Tuor. "I'm having kind of a bad hair day, it seems."

"You're always having a bad hair day. I think that in all fourteen years I've known you, your hair has been neat about three times. Get over it."

He laughed and put an arm around my shoulders, and the three of us walked down to the town square.

It was a beautiful evening—warm but not too hot, with a nice breeze in the air. Absolutely perfect weather for Gates of Summer's Eve (that wasn't technically what it was called, but whatever). The square was really crowded, since pretty much everybody in the city stood around there until sunrise. Actually, I think the only people who _weren't _there were the really claustrophobic ones.

"This is one of my favorite days of the year," commented Dad when we went up to him. "I've always loved summer. Gods, I remember some of the things my siblings and cousins and I used to get up to when we spent our summers in Alqualonde…"

"Oh, do tell," said Tuor. "Somehow I have trouble picturing you as a wild young teenager, though."

"Hush, boy," said Dad, smiling.

"It's only nine o' clock. Technically, I don't have to shut up for a whole three hours yet."

"Actually, you do have to," I said, "because he's the king and he wants you to shut, and if you don't we'll lock you in the dungeons."

"You certainly threaten me with that a lot. In fact, I believe you threatened me with the dungeons about five minutes after we first met."

"And that's why you fell in love with me. Admit it."

"Mom. Dad," said Earendil. "I'm with Grandpa on this one. Please shut up."

I gave a fake-haughty sniff and shut up. Tuor shut up as well, though you could tell he wasn't pleased about having to do so. And so we waited in silence for the sun to rise.

_I love my family_, I thought contentedly. _Even if they may be slightly crazy and can't stop insulting each other._

Well, you all know what happens whenever I'm content.

The sun rose at about five o' clock in the morning, by which time Earendil was half-asleep and resting his head on my lap. Usually I was pretty tired at this point too, but at the moment I was oddly alert. Tuor looked pretty wide awake too.

"Is the sun up?" asked Earendil groggily, lifting up his head.

"Yes, honey," I said. "And none too soon, either. I was getting sick of sitting around and not talking."

"You sure like to talk," commented Tuor.

"Hey, Mom, another question," said Earendil. "If the sun rises in the east, what's that in the north?"

I looked to the north.

And freaked out.

Because Earendil was right. There _was _a glow in the north, and it wasn't the sun, either. It actually looked like a bunch of torches, and it was getting closer…

"Ah," I said, in a creepily calm tone of voice that didn't sound like me at all. "Right on time."

"_What_?" said Dad. "Who's right on time?"

I stopped being creepy and quickly stood up. "Dad, the city's under attack. Look to the north if you don't believe me. Morgoth's armies are _coming_, and we need to hurry and get ourselves ready for battle or we're screwed!"

"See what happens when you don't listen to Idril's weird prophetic dreams?" said Tuor. I glared at him. "Right, right, not funny. Idril, you take Earendil back to the house and grab some supplies in case we need to leave in a hurry. Turgon, you and me need to go get some of the lords and figure out a battle plan."

"Right," said Dad. "Let's go."

I grabbed Earendil's hand and ran like heck to our house. By then most of the people had figured out what was going on, and they were pretty much panicking, apparently not realizing that when your home's being destroyed panicking is the _worst _thing to do since you need a clear head. But it's not like I could blame them. I was scared myself.

"Mom, what's happening?" Earendil said.

"The city's falling," I said. "It was a historical inevitability."

"What's that mean?"

"It means it was bound to happen eventually. I just wish it didn't have to happen _now_! Everyone's in the square, no one's safe in their houses, and no one's prepared for battle at _all_!"

"So what are we gonna do?"

"We're going to go home and prepare _ourselves _for battle. Now less talking and more running!"

Finally we got to our house, where I proceeded to pack up a small amount of food and water and throw on one of Tuor's mail shirts (which was _very very heavy_. Seriously, if you can avoid wearing anything made of chain mail in your life, I recommend it) and some normal clothes instead of my fancy green dress. I even bothered to put on a pair of boots.

"Why are you dressed like that?" asked Earendil when he saw me.

"Because it's more sensible. Now please, honey, stop asking me questions and let's get going! I don't want to be trapped in this house when it gets burned down."

I grabbed his hand once again and we ran out onto the walls, where we crashed straight into Maeglin.

"Maeglin! What are you doing here?" I said. "I think there's some meeting going on. Shouldn't you be there?"

He took hold of my wrist. "I doubt I'd be welcome. Now come on, we have to go."

Looking over his shoulder, I could see that Gondolin, as in every dream I'd ever had of this day, was burning. Majorly burning. Well, I could see why he wanted to get out of there, but why did I have to come with?

"What about Tuor?" I asked. "Where's he?"

"Idril, he's probably dead. You need to come with me. I'll keep you safe."

"Tuor's _dead_?" I cried. "Do you know that for sure?"

"Not exactly, no, but it's only a matter of time. Please come with me."

"Maeglin, what is _wrong _with you? Why are you acting so weird?"

He paused for a moment, then shook his head. "Idril, I betrayed the city to Morgoth. I did it for you. He said that I would have you if I told him where Gondolin was…"

And that was when I got mad.

"You betrayed Gondolin to Morgoth?" I said. "_You_ _betrayed Gondolin to Morgoth?_ Oh, yeah, real smart, Maeglin. _Great _idea. You love me, so you betray my dad, cause a huge war that could potentially kill everyone I love, and destroy my home! Yeah, I'm really gonna love you now!" I slapped him with my free hand, hard. "You _arsehole_! I can't believe I was ever nice to you!"

"May I remind you, sweetheart, that I've got the sword here," hissed Maeglin. He let go of my wrist and grabbed my hair instead. "And I'd advise you not to get snippy with me."

"Hey, let go of my mom!" yelled Earendil, kicking him in the leg.

Maeglin turned to glare at him. "Don't get involved, kid, or you're going to be in big trouble."

"Don't you _dare _threaten my son!" I screamed.

The next few things happened all at once. Maeglin, with his free hand, pulled out a knife and looked like he was about to stab Earendil with it. Earendil bit him on the hand, making him drop the knife. I stomped on Maeglin's foot, just for good measure. And in the same moment that I stomped on his foot, I heard Tuor yell "_Idril_!"

"Tuor?"

I looked around and there he was, running towards us holding his axe and looking pretty dang ticked-off. Maeglin, having a brain, let go of my hair.

"Get your hands of my family, you son of a dog," hissed Tuor to Maeglin, in the most threatening tone of voice I'd ever heard him use. Before my cousin could do anything, he gave him a good, hard blow to the face (it looked like he'd broken Maeglin's nose) and shoved him off the wall.

It all happened so quickly. I couldn't believe it. Maeglin had lusted after me, irritated me, and just generally been a jerk to me for so long, and now he was gone. Over the wall. Dead, probably. If only all problems could be solved so easily.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that for," said Tuor.

"I think I might have an idea," I said.


	39. I Hate it When I'm Right

_**Sorry about the delay, everyone—I've been totally busy these days. Anyway, here's one of the most depressing chapters I've ever written for you (depressing being a relative term. I can't seem to write sad scenes very well. Humor, it seems, is in my blood).**_

**Chapter 39: I Hate it when I'm Right**

"**One of these days Babylon is gonna fall."**

**-Newworldson**

"Idril, I have to go," said Tuor. He looked at Earendil and me worriedly. "Do you guys think you'll be okay?"

"Yes, but why are you just leaving me here?" I asked. "Won't it be kind of unsafe for me to just stand around?"

"Okay, don't stay here. Grab your friends and their families and some other girls and kids, run like heck to the tunnel. _Don't _wait for me under any circumstances."

"Why not?"

"Because there's no guarantee that I'll survive." He leaned down to Earendil. "You keep track of your mom, got that?"

"Got it," said Earendil. What a brave kid. We were potentially all screwed, and he wasn't even freaking out. Unlike me. I was totally freaking out on the inside.

"Be careful," I said to Tuor.

"Yeah, I will," he said, and kissed me quickly before turning to go. I grabbed his sleeve.

"No, seriously, be_careful_," I said. "I love you, Tuor. I loved you even before I knew you existed. If you get killed then I don't know what I'll do, but I do know that my life will completely and utterly suck. I need you."

Tuor smiled at me. "Idril the Independent just admitted she needs someone? This is a historical event." He hugged me. "Don't worry about me, Idril. It'll all work out for the best. It usually does."

And then he was gone, running back into the burning half-conquered city. Me? I stood there for a few moments trying not to cry, and then ran like heck to Dinniel's house, Earendil in tow.

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"Oh my Gods, Idril, you're okay!" cried Dinniel when I burst into her house without knocking. She threw her arms around me. "I thought you might have…never mind. Husband's off fighting? So is Enerdhil. Did Tuor say what he thought we should do?"

"He said we should gather up some other women and children and go to the tunnel."

"That's sounds good," said Dinniel, looking relieved. "I'll grab some food and stuff…"

"I'm not going to."

She gave me a weird look. "Not going to what?"

"Not going to go straight to the tunnel. This is my home and I'm going to defend it."

"Oh, man," Dinniel groaned. "You're going to go all warrior-chick on me, aren't you, and I'm just gonna have to follow you along and pretend I agree with everything you say. Come on, Idril, be a mindless conformist for once."

"First of all, who wants to be a conformist, not me, and second of all, you don't have to come. You can take your kids to the tunnel and get out of here."

"That's a good idea, but I don't know where this secret tunnel is," said Dinniel. "So I'll come with you. But if my kids get hurt, you are in _huge _amounts of trouble."

"You have no idea how much I love you right now," I said. "Thanks a ton."

"There's a lot of love going around today," my best friend commented. "Which would be totally awesome if Gondolin wasn't under attack. Come on, I'll go grab my kids, and we can go get Meleth."

Well, my life may have sucked, but at least I had awesome friends. That's got to count for something.

Meleth, as I'd figured she would, thought we were crazy. But she said she'd come along anyway.

"If you guys get killed, who am I supposed to hang out with?" she reasoned. "Better we all die together. Hang on, I'll change into some more sensible clothes."

"Auntie Idril! Auntie Dinniel!" said Meleth's daughter Ringare, appearing in the doorway. "What's going on?"

"We're gonna go fight," Earendil informed her. "Mom says that we've gotta defend the city."

"You're too young to fight," said Ringare. "And so are you, Aurelia and Herion."

Aurelia stuck out her tongue.

"She's got a point, you know," said Dinniel. "We can't exactly go dragging four little kids into a battle. It'd be incredibly stupid."

"We need to find someone to take them through the tunnel," said Meleth, reappearing in some clothes that it looked like she'd stolen from Glorfindel. "Someone we can trust."

"Why can't we come?" whined Herion.

"Don't you want to live to be twenty?" I snapped without meaning to. "Sorry, honey, but you've got to get out of here while you can. We're grown-ups, we're more expendable than you." I turned to Dinniel. "Din, have you seen Voronwe around? We can get him and Iavas to gather up our kids and some of the others and get them out of here."

"I think he might still be in the square," said Dinniel. "He was last time I saw him, anyway."

"Poi-fect. Come on, girls, let's _go_!"

--- --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As luck had it, we ran into Voronwe right as we left Meleth's house. Iavas was with him.

"Oh, thank the Gods you guys are okay!" she cried. "What are you going to do now?"

"We're going to go off and fight," Meleth informed her. "But we had a favor to ask from you two."

"Of course. What is it?"

"We need you take our kids and round up some other women and children and get them through the tunnel," I said. "I know it might not sound like much fun, but it's really, really important. Help us, please?"

"I think we can handle that," said Iavas. "Voronwe, will this be a huge blow to your male pride or anything like that?"

"Well, it will be somewhat, but I'm willing to sacrifice a bit of male pride for the good of the city," said Voronwe. "Lucky for you guys, I sort of helped with the tunnel, so _I _know where it is. Shall we be off?"

Gathering up the kids, we left Meleth's street and walked towards the North Side, where the tunnel was. Along the way we picked up several other young mothers and their kids, and a few guys who wanted to help us out as well. Most of these people I'd never even met, so it was kind of funny how much I wanted them to be safe. Dinniel was right—there_was _a lot of love going around.

"Mom, I don't want you to go!" cried Earendil when we reached the tunnel and I handed him over to Iavas. He looked about three years old again.

"Earendil, I have to go," I said, trying to keep my voice from breaking. "But I'll come back, I promise. I'm your mother, so I have to come back." I kissed him on the forehead, and whispered "Take care of him" to Iavas. Then I turned to Dinniel and Meleth. "You guys, I've changed my mind. Don't come with me."

"_What_?" cried Dinniel. "You're our best friend, Idril! We can't let you go by yourself!"

"I won't be by myself," I said. "Voronwe, you're coming with me. Okay?"

"Okay," said Voronwe, looking pleased that he wouldn't have to hang out with a bunch of girls when he could be fighting.

"Meleth, Dinniel, don't be mad at me," I said. "I just can't let you leave your kids behind like I'm doing. I'll need you to take care of Earendil in case I'm delayed or…hurt."

They nodded. I may have promised my son otherwise, but we all knew that there was a chance I would, as Aunt Aredhel once put it, kick the bucket.

"Let's get going, Voronwe," I said. And going we got.

I barely recognized Gondolin. What few buildings were left standing were charred and half-destroyed, the air was full of smoke, and, of course, there were a bunch of Orcs and suchlike running around the streets. Mostly what I noticed, of course, was that the whole surreal, peaceful feeling of the city was gone. We weren't safely shut off from the rest of the world anymore— _this _was reality with a vengeance. Pride comes before a fell, and we were falling hard.

We fought our way through the streets, killing any orcs who stood in our way. I'm not a violent girl by nature, but I didn't care this time. It was either kill or be killed.

"Are we looking for Tuor?" asked Voronwe.

This hadn't occurred to me, but it seemed like a good enough idea. "Yes," I said. "Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"I think he might be near the palace. It seems like he'd go there."

I nodded. "Okay, we'll go there. And we absolutely can _not _get separated, so put your hand on my shoulder and keep it there."

Obviously the poor guy felt kind of uncomfortable touching his best friend's wife, but he knew that it wouldn't be good if he got lost in the smoke, so he gripped me shoulder tightly and we made our way to the palace.

My sense of direction was a little off that day, because I somehow ended up at Gar Ainion, the hill by the palace where Tuor and I had had our wedding at. That was _so _long ago, I thought, sighing. Well, I may as just head down to the palace…

"Oh, man," said Voronwe, taking his hand off my shoulder. "Is that your dad?"

I looked closely at the towers below us and gasped in horror. The entire place was on fire and surrounded by the enemy, who appeared to be having quite a lot of fun plundering the place. That wasn't that big of a deal, though. The big deal was that when I squinted, I could just make out the silhouette of Dad standing on the top of one of the towers, fighting for his life and appearing to be losing.  
"I can't_believe _this!" I cried. "My dad's basically dead, my home's being conquered, and my husband's probably been killed by now, too! Why do things like this keep happening to me?"

"Yo, Idril? I'm not dead."

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Tuor and a bunch of other guys standing there. I'm not sure who the other guys were. My vision was kind of blurry at the moment.

"Tuor?" I whispered.

"Yeah. Are you okay?"

"_No_!" I practically screamed. "Didn't you _hear _me? Dad's going to die!"

"We couldn't get him to come with us," Tuor said calmly. "I swear I tried, Idril. There's nothing I can do now."

This was too much for me. I fell to my knees and burst into tears.

Tuor lifted me back up and stroked my hair gently. "Idril, it'll be okay. He'll die defending his city. It'll be what he wanted." He wiped off my face and kissed me. "We need to get out of here, okay?"

"Okay," I said hoarsely. "Has anyone else we know died?"

"Um…actually, Ecthelion died about an hour ago. He brought a Balrog down with him, though, so that was good."

"That sucks," I said sadly. "I liked him. But yeah, let's go. I need to go find Earendil."

"Where is he, anyway?"

"I sent him down the tunnel with Dinniel and Meleth. He's safe, as far as I know."

"Good. You're an excellent mother, Idril."

I looked back at the palace one more time. As I watched, a huge sheet of flame shot up around Dad's tower. And in that moment, my powers of mind-reading became stronger than they'd ever been.

_You would have made an excellent queen, Idril_.

Thanks anyway, Dad.


	40. Poor, Well, Everyone, Really

_**This chapter is more proof of the fact that I can't write battle scenes. They're not nearly as fun as romance and stuff like that.**_

_**Just a quick heads-up: You won't be getting the chapter after this for quite some time, due to the fact that I'm going to New Orleans for a week (Spring Break, oh yeah). I'm sure no one will mind.**_

_**Also, after this, we only have TWO CHAPTERS LEFT! Woo-hoo! Scream for joy! Or, alternately, weep with despair. Either is fine. : )**_

**Chapter 40: Poor…Well, Everyone, Really**

"**Due to lack of interest, tomorrow is canceled."**

**-Kaiser Chiefs**

We (including quite a few people we'd picked up along the way) met up with everyone else in the tunnel (they'd only made it about halfway through—that was a _long _tunnel). Of course everyone was extremely pleased to see each other. Actually, my friends hugged me so hard I thought they were going to break my spine.

"Honey, we thought you were done for!" cried Meleth. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"Of course you are," I said. "And I'm glad to see you too, but can I mope for a bit? My dad's kicked the bucket and I couldn't have done anything to prevent it, which is almost as bad as having been able to do something and not having done it."

"Your dad's dead?" said Dinniel. "Well, this will sound totally mean, but I'm not exactly surprised, Idril. I always thought that your dad would rather die defending his city than run off like a sensible person."

"Yeah," I said wistfully. "I don't really think he could have been happy anywhere else."

"Grandpa's dead?" said Earendil. "That _sucks_! _And _Ecthelion's dead, too. Why are so many cool guys dying?"

"Hey, I'm still alive," said Glorfindel, messing up Earendil's hair. "And I intend to stay alive for quite some time. Not like your old man, there."

"Excuse me, but I'm only thirty-seven," said Tuor. "I've got a good fifty years left, if I'm lucky."

"Let's stop talking about death," I said. "It's depressing me. Haven't enough people been killed already?"

"And I don't like this tunnel," said Earendil. "It's dark, and it smells funny."

"Sweetie, this tunnel probably saved all of our lives," said Dinniel. "You should be grateful to your mother for coming up with the idea for it."

"And your father, for getting it dug," said Meleth.

"And me, because I'm awesome," said Aurelia.

"You sound like Dad's cousin Maedhros," I said. "Are you sure you want to keep saying things like that?"

And so we walked through the tunnel, talking and laughing quietly to keep our spirits up and sort of forget what had just happened to our home.

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The first thing I noticed when we got out of the tunnel was how un-Gondolin-ish everything looked. Gondolin had been all clean and bright and utopian; the outside world was kind of drab and normal-looking in comparison. Weirdly enough, the imperfection of it all made me feel kind of relieved, like everyone could stop pretending to be happy with everything now and we could all just relax.

To be honest, I didn't feel as sad as I probably should have, considering the fact that Dad was gone and I wouldn't be seeing him again for a good long time, if ever. Because Dinniel was right. Most of us could survive in the outside world, but it never would've worked out for Dad. Gondolin was his soul mate. There was nothing for him outside of it. The people I felt sorry for were the kids who'd lost their parents, the wives who'd lost their husbands, etc. I was supposed to be their princess, and yet I couldn't do anything for them. Which sucked.

We made camp for that night, making sure everyone was well guarded so we'd be safe if there were any more orcs lurking around. As soon as Earendil fell asleep, I broke down.

"This is all my fault," I cried. "If it weren't for me Maeglin never would have betrayed the city."

"That's rot," said Tuor. "It's not your fault you're beautiful, and it's not your fault that Maeglin was in love with you. I mean, you didn't_tell _him to betray us, did you?"

"Well, no," I said, "but I keep feeling like I should have done something about this. I should have _known _that something was up. Aren't I supposed to be smart?"

"Idril, you _are_smart. The tunnel was your idea, remember. If it hadn't been for that, a lot more people would have died. You saved dozens of lives."

"I know," I said, sighing and resting my head on his shoulder. "I just wish it could have worked out better."

"We can't control everything, Idril," said Tuor. "If our destinies were in our own hands, we never would have met."

And that, I had to admit, was true.

The next day we got up again and went on. I don't think we really had a plan as to where we were going—we just knew we needed to get out of there. Getting out of there, however, was harder than we'd thought. Dad had built the city in a hard-to-navigate-through area for a reason, and we were heading over some pretty rocky ground. By the time we reached Cristhorn, everyone was exhausted.

Let me explain was Cristhorn was like. It was the bit of the Encircling Mountains where the eagles lived (remember Thorondor? Yeah, that was where he hung out), and it was possibly the most unpleasant piece of land I've ever had the misfortune to travel through. For one thing, it was really high up, which meant that it was _cold_, even in the summer, and it was also always snowing, so it was hard to see. Not only that, but we had to travel through this frighteningly narrow path along this really steep hill that would probably kill you if you fell down it. It was almost as bad as the Helcaraxe.

"This is scary, Mom," said Earendil, tightening his grip on my hand.

"I know," I said. "Just stick with me, and whatever you do, don't let go of my hand. Otherwise…"

"_Orcs_!" yelled someone.

"Otherwise the Orcs will get you," I finished. "Wait. What?"

The deal was this: Apparently our escape from Gondolin hadn't been as well-thought-out as we'd planned, and now we had to deal with a bunch of Orcs and a Balrog. Not good. Especially since, as a very frightened Meleth pointed out, they were attacking the front of the group and THAT WAS WHERE GLORFINDEL WAS!

I told her to calm down. "Glorfindel's a good fighter. He'll be fine."

"He'd better be," said Meleth.

I can't really go into details as to what happened next, because I was in the back of the company and therefore couldn't exactly see what was going on. All I know is, there was quite a bit of fighting and we killed most of the Orcs, and the rest left, leaving us ("us" meaning Glorfindel and Co.) just the Balrog to deal with. And Meleth—and me, and Dinniel, and our kids, and everyone else—had to watch as Glorfindel stabbed the Balrog in the stomach and ended up taking both of them down the cliff.

Meleth screamed.

Like, really, really,_screamed_.

And I have to say that I never have nor ever will hear, see, or otherwise encounter anything as sad as my oldest friend two seconds after her husband had died.

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"I just can't believe it," sobbed Meleth when we'd made camp that night. "What am I supposed to do now? I don't have a husband, and Ringare doesn't have a father. I don't have anyone to look out for me."

"Oh, Meleth, that's not true," I said soothingly. "You've got us. We'll look after you and Ringare, I promise. And besides, you may see Glorfindel again someday."

"This is so weird," Meleth sniffed. "I was the last girl in our group to be married, and now I'm the first to be a widow. That's so ironic it's not even funny."

Ringare, Meleth's pretty, green-eyed daughter, patted her mother's back comfortingly. "It'll be okay, Mama," she said. "We'll be safe soon."

"Look at me," said Meleth, wiping her eyes. "My five-year-old daughter is comforting me when her father's just died. I'm pitiful."

"No, you're not," Dinniel said. "We understand just how you feel, don't we, Idril? I mean, I know you loved Glorfindel. He was totally cool, and besides, we went to a _lot _of trouble to get him to marry you. So you have every right in the world to have a total meltdown right now."

"Thanks. I just hope we can get out of these dratted mountains soon," said Meleth. "I would kill to be someplace sunny right now."

"So would I," I said. "Look, I'll go talk to Tuor to see if he has any plans for where we're headed. Would you like that?"

"That'd be fine." Meleth hugged me. "I can see why everyone loves you, Idril."

"Everyone doesn't love me," I said. "People who've never met me don't love me."

"Shut up."

"Right, right, shutting up." I got up and went to find Tuor.

"Meleth was wondering where we're going next," I said to him when I found him standing outside our tent. "I told her I'd ask you."

"I don't know," said Tuor. "I was thinking we'd maybe head to the coast, something like that, y'know? Because I really need to go someplace warm."

"That's what Meleth said," I said. "And yes, the coast sounds lovely. I haven't seen the sea in years."

"Neither have I," said Tuor wistfully. "I saw it once, before I came to Gondolin. Most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. And I swore that if I was ever rich I'd buy a boat and sail around for a few years—just get away from everything."

"I've always wished I could get away from things, too," I said. "Being a princess is so stressful. And I love having authority, but…sometimes I feel like I can't do enough, like people expect more from me than I can give. Sometimes I wish I could, I don't know, retire!" I laughed half-heartedly. "But that's not really an option right now."

"That's my dear complaining Idril," said Tuor, smiling. "For a while back there, I thought you were almost content."


	41. Sirion

_**Well, I'm home! Sorry for the delay (though I doubt any of you minded, since I've barely gotten **_**any **_**reviews lately. Don't give up on me, people!) And we're on the second-to-last chapter! Phew, it's been a long trip, hasn't it?**_

**Chapter 41: Sirion**

"**I couldn't fight it, I couldn't wait to get away."**

**-Liz Phair**

We survived, all of us. Meleth, and Dinniel, and Tuor and Earendil and me and all the others. And it was hard, but we stayed tough. After all, we'd made it through the fall of Gondolin. There was no point in giving up now.

And so eventually we wound up in Nan-Tathren.

That, I had to say, was a stroke of luck. If you're a seriously exhausted, depressed refugee who's running out of food and water and basically just need somewhere to crash while you recover, Nan-Tathren's the place for it. _Nothing ever happens there_. Ever.

So what we did when we got there was, we set up camp and then had a huge feast in memory of Gondolin and everyone who died in the battle. It felt good, as I later remarked to Tuor. It felt like…closure.

"Poor Meleth, though," said Tuor. "She was practically crying throughout the whole deal."

"I know," I sighed. "I can't even imagine what she must be feeling. She wasn't even married for that long. I'm amazed at how brave she's being."

"What would you do if I died?" Tuor asked.

"Why, are you planning on doing so in the near future?"

"Well, I'm not all that young anymore. I'm thirty-seven now, after all."

"Thirty-seven is young, you know."

"It's middle-aged. And you have to admit, I'm not nearly as good-looking as I was ten years ago."

I smiled and smoothed down his hair. "You still look hot to me."

"Thanks. So how long do you think we'll be staying here, anyway?"

"I don't know. As long as it takes, I guess. But I do hope that we won't be stuck here forever. It's a little too idyllic for me."

"Because, of course, if it's idyllic you'll be content, and if you're content then we'll all die horribly."

"Exactly. So I'm hoping to leave in about a month or so."

"Sounds good to me." He kissed me on the cheek and rolled over on the cot we were sharing. A moment later I heard him snoring gently. Pretty soon, I drifted off, too.

_"Idril, sweetie," said my mother, "watch out where you're going. You don't want to get washed away."_

_I was five years old (almost six) and standing on the beach in Alqualonde. It was a bright, sunny day—except not sunny, because we didn't have the sun back then, but close enough._

_"The sea's not going to wash me away," I declared confidently. "It likes me."_

_Mom laughed. "Just like your father, always sure of everything. Sometimes I think you take after him way more than me."_

_"Where is Daddy, Mom? Why couldn't he come with us?"_

_"Your daddy's very busy, Idril. He has a lot to do in Tirion. Besides, it's nice to have a day to ourselves, just us girls, isn't it?"_

_"Mom," I said suddenly, "Daddy wanted me to be a boy. I overheard him talking to Uncle Fingon about it once. He said 'If I had a son I'd at least have an heir. But with Idril, all I can hope for is that she'll find a good husband and have sons of her own.'"_

_My mother's face darkened. "Turgon has very archaic ideas of a girl's abilities and duties. Don't ever get married unless you want to, Idril."_

_"I don't think I will," I said. "But I think if I do get married—he'll come from the sea."_

_There was a moment of silence as my tall, blue-eyed mother and I watched the ocean in silence._

That was the last real dream I had for some time. And it wasn't prophetic or morbid like most of my dreams (thank Iluvatar) but instead merely showed that I'd always sort of been able to see the future, even when I was really young.

Like I'd wanted, we stayed in Nan-Tathren for about a month, until everyone's injuries were mostly healed and we could mention Gondolin without someone bursting into tears. That, of course, just left us to make the decision as to where we'd go now.

Tuor took Earendil aside about three days before we actually left—to have a "guy talk" with him, he said, though I still don't know exactly what it was Tuor said. All I know was, when they came back, Earendil told me that he wanted to go down Sirion to the sea.

"I've always wanted to see the ocean, Mom," he said. "Can't we go live on the coast?"

I looked from my husband to my son, both with the same eager expression on their face. And I grinned.

"The coast it is," I said. "I'll go tell the people."

And so began the next leg of our journey. We started packing up the next day (no one seemed opposed to the idea of going south, which was good, because I wasn't in the mood to deal with dissention). Personally, I was nervous about traveling through Middle-Earth, since the whole place was pretty much in anarchy and none of us had left Gondolin in years, but following the river of Sirion proved to be pretty easy. All we had to deal with were a few random Orcs who weren't very good fighters.

"I hope we like it there," I said to Dinniel about a week into our journey. "I mean, living by the coast in Vinyamar was fun, but things are probably different now."

"Don't worry, Idril," said Dinniel. "It'll be fine. I heard there's already a sort of settlement at Sirion's mouth where the survivors from Doriath went, so that seems like it'd be safe. And it'll probably be a fine place to raise the children." Dinniel had had to do pretty much all the raising of her children lately, as Enerdhil had been injured badly in the battle and was only now able to walk very well (and he still needed a crutch, poor guy).

"Well, I know Earendil will like it, at least," I said. "He's just like his father—totally obsessed with the sea. It's funny how some people are like that."

"I know what you mean. Half the guys I know, it seems like if you gave them a boat they'd just hop on it and never be seen again. Guys and the sea aren't a good combination."

"So you're saying Tuor's going to abandon me?" I demanded.

"Of course not, silly girl. Tuor worships you. He'll just make you come with him."

"Huh. I don't know if I'd like that either. But I guess I'd have to get used to it."

"It'll work out, Idril," said Dinniel softly, patting me on the shoulder. "You have to believe that."

We continued south, the air getting warmer with every mile we traveled. Everyone was starting to feel a bit lighter, I could tell. Good weather did that to you.

"I can't wait to get there, Mom," said Earendil excitedly for the umpteenth time. "It's gonna be awesome."

"Dang right," said Tuor. "Way better than Gondolin. It's not like I didn't like the city, but you can't deny that it was pretty cramped."

"Yeah," I said absently, "it was. Do you know how far we have left to go?"

"According to the map, we should be there in about two miles."

"Is that far?" Earendil asked me.

"No," I said, feeling a bit excited myself. "It's not very far at all. We're almost there, you guys. We've almost made it."

We traveled the next two miles in eager anticipation, hoping that this settlement at the mouth of Sirion that Dinniel had mentioned wouldn't be a total dump and the people would be at least somewhat friendly. I wasn't expecting luxury, but I did hope that we wouldn't be living like bums. After all, I _was_ a princess.

And then we saw it. The ocean.

After all I'd been through, after all my years of being cynical and depressed and angry, I have to say that the first time I'd seen the sea in centuries really proved to me that there was some good in the world after all. It was just so _beautiful_. I felt like I was going to bawl, and one look at Tuor proved that he was feeling the same.

"Wow," whispered Earendil. "That's _cool_."

Along the shore was a somewhat small gathering of houses, which I figured must be the settlement where we were headed. From here, it looked pretty nice.

"I guess this is going to be our new home," I said to Tuor.

"I guess so," he said. "Shall we go check it out?"

"We may as well."

Somewhat cautiously, we approached the houses, feeling the eyes of the settlement's current residents on us through their windows. There was one larger one right in the middle of everything, which I assumed was where the leader of this bunch lived. I was about to go up and knock on the door when it opened and a girl who looked to be in her early teens came out.

"Hello, welcome to the Havens of Sirion," she said. "My name is Elwing, and I'm in charge of this place. Can I help you?"

Elwing was a small, delicate-looking girl, with slightly messy black hair, pale skin, and dark grey eyes. She was very pretty, but didn't at all look like the type of girl who'd rule a refugee village. Which just goes to show that you can't judge by appearances.

"My name is Idril, daughter of King Turgon of Gondolin," I said. "Our city has been destroyed and my father killed. We need shelter and safety." I figured the desperate approach couldn't hurt.

"Hmm," said Elwing. "Well, we'll need your help building more houses—with the current size of our village we can't possibly accommodate you—but I'm sure we can work something out. I never turn anyone away." She glanced at Earendil, who seemed unable to take his eyes off her. "Is this your son?"

"Yes," I said simply.

"How old is he?"

"I'm seven," said Earendil.

"That was how old I was when my home was destroyed," whispered Elwing. She shook her head. "I hoped no other kid would ever have to go through that."

When she stood up I noticed for the first time the necklace that she wore. It was gold, and very fancy, with lots of jewels set in it. I idly wondered where she'd gotten it when I saw the largest jewel in it—a large blue-white deal that was glowing kind of obviously.

"Your necklace," I said quietly. "You've sacrificed a lot for it, haven't you." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," she said. "I have."

Right then she reminded me a bit of my father.


	42. Homecoming

**Chapter 42: Homecoming**

"**They misunderestimated me."**

**-George W. Bush**

"But we just got here."

That was my reaction when, some years later, Tuor told me that it was high time he and I left the Havens.

"No, we didn't," said Tuor. "We've been here for a long time now, Idril, and I'm not getting any younger. I don't want to stay here forever."

"But where will we go?" I asked. I seemed to be unable to start my sentences with any word other that 'but'.

"I have a ship. We can try to cross the sea, get to Valinor."

"We can't do that. It's forbidden. At best we'll never get there, and at worst our ship will wreck and we'll die."

"_Damn _it, Idril! Why do you have to be so pessimistic about everything?" snapped Tuor in frustration. "Just because you think something might be dangerous doesn't mean we can't try it!"

"Please don't get mad at me, Tuor," I begged. "I'm just trying to be sensible about this."

"Maybe being sensible all the time isn't a good thing," said Tuor. "Maybe you have to be impulsive sometimes."

I sighed. "I know. But…what about Earendil?"

"He's almost grown up by now. He'll be fine."

"It's too bad though, really," I said. "We'll miss his wedding with Elwing."

"We'll miss _what_?" asked Tuor, looking bewildered.

"Oh, don't say you haven't noticed. He's smitten with her, and they'd make an excellent couple. He's totally wild, and she's all clean-cut and smart. They'd balance each other out perfectly."

"It's so strange to think of my son having a girlfriend," said Tuor. "Well, I suppose it was only a matter of time. He's a handsome boy. Just like I used to be."

"Please, not this again. Why are you so paranoid about getting old?"

"Because I'm mortal." He sighed. "I guess we'd better give Earendil the news, then."

"I guess so," I said. "Mind if I do it? I'm more tactful than you."

"Go right ahead. I'll wait here."

When I went to go talk to Earendil, his door was closed. I knocked on it.

"Earendil, honey? It's me."

"Earendil, it's your _mom_," hissed a girl's voice from inside the room. "You need to answer the door."

"Fine, fine." Earendil opened the door, shirtless and looking somewhat disheveled. "Hi, Mom. I was just talking to Elwing."

_Riiight. Talking. Of course you were_. "Of course. May I come in?"

"Yeah, sure." I entered his room and sat down in the armchair in the corner. I would've sat down on the bed, but Elwing was sitting there looking slightly guilty so I figured that wouldn't be a good idea.

"Earendil, your dad and I have talked it over, and we've decided it's time for us to leave."

"_Leave_?" cried Earendil. "I don't want to leave! I like it here!"

"Not _you_, sweetie. Just Tuor and me. We're going to try to get to Valinor."

"Valinor? I thought the Noldor weren't allowed to get back there," Elwing put in helpfully.

"Well, we're going to try anyway. Ulmo like Tuor, after all, so hopefully that'll help us out a bit."

"Do you _have_ to go?" asked Earendil helplessly.

"I'm afraid so. Your dad's getting tired of sitting around and getting old, and I'm sick of hearing him complain." Elwing giggled at that, which I thought was a bit funny, since she didn't seem like the giggling type of girl. But I guess when you've almost been caught making out with your boyfriend by said boyfriend's mother, you act a bit oddly.

Earendil sighed. "Then I guess there's nothing I can do." He hugged me tightly. "I'll miss you, Mom."

"I'll miss you too." I stood up. "Oh, and you guys? Don't try to sneak around behind my back. I've been down that road before and it never turns out well."

They stared as I closed the door behind me.

We got there.

It was a long and fairly hard journey, but I guess my theory that the fact that Ulmo would go easy on us turned out to be right. How else would we, after weeks of rough sailing, have finally ended up on the coast of Valinor?

"I can't believe we're here," I said. "_I can't believe we got here_!"

"I don't think I've seen you this happy in all the years I've known you," said Tuor, grinning. "We should've done this years ago."

"You _shouldn't _have done it at all. It would have been a lot less crap for me to worry about."

We looked up at the guy in the black robe standing in front of us. He looked sort of like an Elf, but way older, wiser, and more pissed off.

"Mandos?" I said, hoping I had the right name. "What are you doing here?"

"Buying biscuits and gravy," said the Vala sarcastically. "Honestly, girl, I thought you were supposed to be clever! I'm here to decide what to do with you and your friend here."

"I'm her husband, not her _friend_," Tuor pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don't care one way or another." He turned to me and looked me straight in the eye, which was a bit creepy. "First of all, you. Blondie. I have to say, for a spoiled rotten princess with an idiotic father and a less-than-complete education, you turned out to be pretty dang smart. You should consider yourself very lucky. And because you saved half the population of Gondolin and because your son's going to be _very _useful to us someday, you can stay here."

"Phew," I sighed. It would have sucked if we'd gotten to Valinor and then gotten kicked out right away.

"Next of all, you. Hotshot mortal boy," said Mandos, looking Tuor up and down. "How'd a kid like you end up with a catch like Blondie here?"

Tuor shrugged. "Possibly my charm and good looks. Possibly the fact that I was the only guy in Gondolin who didn't suck up to her big-time."

"Well said. Now for you, this is a bit more complicated. She wasn't supposed to be here because she's a Noldorin princess. _You _aren't supposed to be here because you're married to a Noldorin princess _and _you're a mortal, both of which are major strikes against you."

"It's not my fault what species I am."

"I never said it was. But still, what are we going to do about you? We can't just have you coming here and then dying. These are the Undying Lands. It'd defeat the purpose completely. On the other hand, we can't have you sent back to Middle-Earth, because if we did that Blondie would probably kill me."

"Dang right I would," I said.

"So, I see that only gives us one choice," said Mandos. "Tuor, I'm going to have to make you an immortal."

There was a moment as we both let that sink in. Then we said at the exact same time, "What?"

"Are you hard of hearing, or are you just stupid?" sighed Mandos. "I _said_…"

"We _know _what you said," I interrupted. "We're just shocked. Can you actually do that?"

"I'm a Vala, Blondie. I can do anything."

"Stop calling me Blondie."

"Don't tell me what to do. Anyway, I suppose we'd better get this over with. Stand still, Hotshot." He started at Tuor long and hard for a while, then clapped his hands together once (rather loudly). "There. We're done. Any questions?"

"I don't feel any different," said Tuor, inspecting his hands. "Do I look any different?"

Actually, he did. He looked younger, more healthy. About how he'd looked at thirty-two. When I pointed this out to him, he looked very pleased.

"Well, that's one less thing for me to worry about," he said, and turned to Mandos. "Thanks, dude."

"No problem, _dude_," said Mandos, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, if you don't have any questions, I have to leave. There are people dying in this world and I have to deal with them."

Once he'd left, Tuor turned back to me. "Phew. He was unpleasant."

"I guess that's what happens when you have to work with death for a long time," I said.

"So what do we do now?"

"Well, we're both immortal, attractive, and official residents of Valinor," I replied. "So shut up and kiss me!"

And he did.

Well, that's it, then. That's what happened to me. Tuor and I live in a big house on the coast now, not far from Alqualonde, and we're never short of food, company, and saltwater. Earendil, from what I've heard, went on to become the Morning Star and help greatly in finally bringing down Morgoth—after, of course, he'd married Elwing. Meleth and Dinniel moved back to Valinor after the big war, and they both live nearby us now, as do most of their kids (except Meleth's oldest daughter Ringare. She stayed behind in Middle-Earth, to help the remaining Noldor reconstruct things). So yeah, that's all good.

I guess if there's a moral the story I've just told, it's this: You don't have to take crap. You don't have to stick to the status quo. As Meleth once said, only you can change your life, so you'd better get out there and do it. And like Aunt Aredhel said, never, ever apologize. Only then will you ever have a chance to end up living in luxury in Valinor (if that's how you want to end up).

But you want to know the best part about all this? Besides Tuor becoming immortal, and Earendil saving the world, and all that?

For once in my life, I can finally be content without worrying that something awful is going to happen.

I think…

**The End.**

**Seriously.**

_**So that's it, then. We're DONE! Finally! It's been so much fun writing this story, and it's been even more fun to get your feedback on it. You've all given me such great reviews, and I've had the best time reading them. I love all of you (especially you, PipotheFreak—you've been totally supportive throughout this whole thing), and I'll love you even more if you keep reading and reviewing my stuff.**_

_**PS: I'd like to apologize to Tolkien, who would probably kill me if he saw what I've done to his characters. Sorry, Professor. You rock anyway.**_


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